


God Help Her

by JadeSelena



Series: Peckstein [1]
Category: Rookie Blue
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 12:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 110,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16892205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeSelena/pseuds/JadeSelena
Summary: She just had to make it through the night... End tag to 2x09 then AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally published on FF.net - I am reposting here because I'm writing a sequel and figured it should be in the same place.
> 
> Okay, so I know this isn't exactly a popular pairing but I like it. I actually like Gail 'cause she's flawed and damaged and snarky. And I like Dov for her because he actually stands up to her and gives back as well as (sometimes better than) she gives. For me they're on equal footing. I have nothing against Chris, I actually like him, but I don't like him and Gail together. I find their relationship either boring and/or painful, because it just makes her look bitchy and him completely whipped. I do admit they have moments when I find them completely Aw-worthy but those are few and far between. So Gail and Dov are my preferred pairing and I won't apologize for it.
> 
> I do not own the show or characters; I just borrowed them for a little bit.

Dov stared out the window at the passing scenery, still trying to wrap his mind around everything he'd done while under the influence of his pain meds. Not only had he declared his love for his best friend's girlfriend but he'd done it in the most cliché way possible (She's not you? Luck of the soul? Who  _actually_  talked like that?). As bad as that was, though, and as horrible a friend as it made him, it wasn't what really bothered him. What  _really_ bothered him was that Gail had gone into that apartment  _alone_ , into a possible hit-in-progress, because he hadn't been able to back her up the way he should have. And if he were being honest with himself he couldn't even blame it on an adverse reaction to the medication. He'd popped the pills like candy because they numbed him; because more than his back pain he'd hoped they'd desensitize him to  _her_. It hadn't worked (failed spectacularly, actually) and his attempt to dull the pain of not having her could very well have cost him her for good. And he never would have forgiven himself.

Gail parked the car outside the pub and gave Dov a few minutes to compose himself. Awkward didn't even begin to cover the situation but now that their lives weren't actively at risk the anger and exasperation took a back seat to concern. "You know, I really don't mind driving you home," she offered for the third time since they'd left the station. "It's really not a big deal…"

He didn't think he  _could_  go home. Not tonight. Not when all he'd do was wait up for her and Chris, torturing himself with thoughts of them laughing at how stupid and worthless and delusional he was. "No. It's okay – the nurse said I was fine. You know, I'll just stick to juice."

"Okay," she whispered. But it wasn't  _okay_. He'd had one hell of a day and she really didn't think The Black Penny was the best way for him to finish it off. For a lot of reasons.

While part of Dov was grateful she was still there, hadn't run the first chance she got, a bigger part wished she would just  _go._  Sitting there beside her (so close and yet so far) with her being so  _nice_  was killing him. Of all the things he wanted from her ( _with_ her), pity wasn't one of them. "I told Chris we'd meet him inside…"

"Oh, okay." She didn't know why she sounded so surprised (it's not like they would have met  _outside_ ), or why she was undoing her seat belt like it was the one thing standing between her and salvation. There wasn't much she  _did_  know at the moment.

When her hand touched the door Dov realized he really  _didn't_  want her to leave. Not without talking about it. "Gail…"

"Don't," she warned. If they talked about it then it became real, and it needed to stay an embarrassing but innocent Oxycontin-induced hallucination. She couldn't deal with it otherwise. The ringing of her cell drove home  _why_.

"Okay," Dov acquiesced quietly (quickly).

Despite the persistent ringing (or maybe because of it) she pointed out, "We should go in."

"Yeah." They  _should_ go in, if only because staying there wasn't changing anything. She was still dating his best friend and he was still the idiot who couldn't appreciate his amazing girlfriend because she wasn't the woman sitting next to him. And yet he couldn't bring himself to move.

Quashing a surge of (unfair) irritation with her boyfriend Gail hit the 'silent' button on her phone and slowly turned to face Dov. He was hurting, badly, and all she wanted to do was reach out to him, to somehow make it better. But she knew she couldn't make it better without making it worse. For all of them.

Dov sighed when she turned her attention back out the windshield without saying anything. She was probably avoiding going in because she hadn't figured out how to tell her boyfriend his best friend was traitorous scum. And he couldn't even blame her.

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a while, avoiding each other's gazes in favor of the passing traffic, Gail contemplating going against his wishes and taking him home anyway. Seeing Chris was probably the last thing he needed right then. Or maybe it was the last thing  _she_  needed. "Are you sure?" she offered again, hoping he'd changed his mind.

Hopeless romantic or sucker for punishment (could go either way), Dov couldn't  _not_ take the opening she'd given him. Finally meeting her eyes he promised quietly, "More than anything."

The breath caught painfully in Gail's throat for the second time that day, the same earnest look on his face as he'd had when laying out their future. Except now he was sober and her eyes were burning and she  _knew_ that if she didn't get out of there the line they were carefully straddling would most definitely be crossed. Maybe even by her.

Before Dov's slowed senses could register it she was out of the car and, in no shape to chase her, he let his head fall back against the seat and closed his eyes. He really needed to learn how to quit while he was ahead…

Gail closed the outer door of The Black Penny behind her before leaning her forehead against the cool wall, taking a minute to calm her erratic breathing. Throwing once last regretful look towards the street she entered the bar proper and found her friends' table.

"It's about time," Andy ribbed with a smile, happy to see her. "Where's the 'Stein' part of 'Peckstein'?"

Maybe she was just being hyper-sensitive but it seemed to Gail that that particular label was being thrown around way too often lately. "So how badly did you guys embarrass the 15 today?" she deflected with her trademark snark, offering Chris her cheek when he stood to greet her.

Andy's smile turned into a full-fledged grin. "Not too badly, actually." She just had to keep reminding herself that she was  _completely_  over cops…

Chris pulled a stool over for Gail and waited for her to sit before asking, "So where were you? Shift ended over two hours ago…" He'd noticed the way she'd avoided the question of Dov's whereabouts and he wanted (needed) to know if she'd lie to him outright.

Torn between relief and dread when she saw Dov approaching the table, Gail tilted her head at him, an effected smirk gracing her lips. "Nancy Narcotic here needed some time to come down off his high."

It could have been the truth – they'd heard about his reaction to the meds when they got back to the station – but Chris couldn't shake the ominous feeling that something else was going on. Telling himself he was being paranoid because of the Samuels thing he set the feeling aside. "We heard; you okay, man?"

"Peachy." Rolling his eyes Dov told them, " _Nancy Narcotic_  is gonna get another round…"

Gail couldn't blame him for wanting to get passed-out drunk (she was seriously considering it herself) but an alcohol/Oxycodone overdose was not the answer. Softly (but firmly) she reminded him, "Juice, Dov…"

"Yes,  _Mother_ ," Dov sassed over his shoulder. He couldn't decide if her caring was a good thing or a bad thing, and he ultimately settled on it being  _bittersweet_.

At the others' questioning looks Gail covered blithely, "I've already dealt with stoned Dov today; I'd like to avoid drunk  _and_ stoned Dov if that's okay with you guys…" She shifted her gaze challengingly between them until they dropped theirs (Chris sooner than Andy, of course).

"Be right back…" Andy told them, giving them some time alone under the pretence of helping Dov.

Chris put his hand on Gail's thigh and tugged her towards him so he could nuzzle his face into her hair. Inhaling the scent of her shampoo he forced himself to forget all about Samuels and what he'd (thought he'd) seen. "I missed you…"

"You, too," Gail mumbled as he kissed her neck, fighting the guilty knot that had formed in her stomach. She just had to make it through tonight, she told herself. Tomorrow would be better. Tomorrow emotions wouldn't be so raw and things could go back to normal. They  _had_  to go back to normal, 'cause, God help her, she didn't know what she'd do if they didn't.


	2. Chapter 2

Gail watched the bar carefully while Chris whispered sweet nothings into her ear. At least she  _thought_  they were sweet nothings; he could have been quoting baseball stats for all the attention she was paying. As soon as Dov and Andy were served she whispered, "We need to switch tables."

Chris pulled back to look at her. "Huh?" He'd just been getting to the good part: what he was going to  _do_  to make up for missing her all day…

It wasn't that she didn't want to be touched by her boyfriend – whatever was going on didn't change her feelings for  _him_  – but she couldn't throw it in Dov's face. Not today. "The table's too small…" she explained (unconvincingly, even to her own ears). Clove of garlic?  _If only._

Suspicion renewed, Chris picked up his and Andy's mostly-empty drinks and followed her to a bigger table, sitting across from her so he could study her reactions.

"Here we go…" Andy put a beer in front of Chris and sat next to him where he'd put her other glass.

"Thanks," Chris smiled at her.

Dov handed Gail her drink and, as she mumbled what might have been gratitude, took the last stool next to her. At least he wouldn't have to fight the temptation to stare at her all night – that was a bonus.

Gail was busy battling paranoia, trying to figure out if Chris had arranged the seating that way deliberately, when she noticed the color of Dov's drink. "Dov…" she warned, eyes narrowed.

"It's non-alcoholic apple cider." He held it out to her for inspection, defending, "It's kind of a juice."

She would have tasted it to be sure but she felt more than saw Chris watching her intently. "Better be," she huffed before turning back to her boyfriend, attempting to shake the feeling that he knew something was up. Everyone thought Chris was clueless but he wasn't; he was much more perceptive than he let on, doing it on purpose so people underestimated him. Which they did. Constantly. It gave him an edge in the field and she loved that about him. Unfortunately right now it had her stomach churning and her mind racing. "So anything fun happen to you guys? Anyone get tossed off a horse?"

"It's  _thrown from_ , Babe…" Only she would think seeing someone get thrown from a horse was  _fun_.

Dov listened quietly while the others chatted, fighting the mounting pain until he couldn't take it anymore. "Gail?"

Hearing the tremor in his voice she gave him her attention for the first time since they'd started talking. He was doing his best not to slump on the stool and she wanted to kick herself for not choosing a booth instead. Consideration for others never had been her strong suit... "You okay?"

"I need a pill," he grunted through clenched teeth.

"Oh God, Dov." She'd forgotten she even had them, and it must have been at least five hours since he'd had the last one. Like he didn't have enough problems without her withholding his meds... "Why didn't you say something earlier?" she sighed as she rummaged in her jacket. At least she'd thought to take them when she'd changed clothes…

Concerned, Andy looked between them and suggested, "Maybe we should just call it a night…"

Dov gratefully took the pills Gail gave him and gulped them down with cider, then shook his head. "I'll be fine. Just got to give them a minute to kick in…"

Chris opened his mouth to agree with Andy but Gail beat him to it.

"Like hell, Dov," she bit off, snapping the plastic container closed and stuffing it back in her pocket. "We're going home and getting you into bed." She wasn't taking no for an answer this time.

It was her  _Or Else_ tone and Dov knew better than to argue. Not that he would – bed actually sounded like a  _really_  good idea, and he managed to refrain from asking if she was going to tuck him in, too. "Yeah, okay."

Downing her drink Gail wrapped Dov's arm around her and helped him to stand, then looked at Chris. "Can you close the tab, Babe? I'm gonna get him to the car so he can lie down…"

"Sure," Chris nodded and moved to the bar. While waiting to pay he turned back to find Dov gazing at Gail's face as Andy led them to the door.  _Son of a…_

"Dov…" Gail warned for umpteenth time that day, grimacing when Andy looked at them. " _Stop being so bloody obvious_ ," she whisper-hissed once the brunette's back was turned again. If they made it through tonight she was going to have to give him a serious lesson on how to  _not_ come across like a love-sick puppy.

" _Sorry!"_ he hissed back bitterly, then shifted his gaze to stare quite openly at Andy's ass.

 _Ugh._ She was going to kill him. After everything he'd put her through today she  _was_  going to kill him. And there wasn't a jury in the world that would convict her.

When they got to the car Andy took the keys from Gail and went to unlock it, then stopped, confused. "The doors aren't locked…"

 _Crap._ Dov looked at Gail, hoping she'd provide an explanation 'cause his brain was too fuzzy to come up with one.

Gail bit her lip for a second before responding scornfully, "Well, who's gonna steal a car outside a known cop hang-out?" That didn't mean they wouldn't steal  _from_ an unlocked car outside a known cop hang-out – hopefully her purse was still in the back seat.

 _Fair enough._  Andy opened the driver's side doors. "You got him?"

Swallowing a smart-ass remark Gail nodded, manoeuvring him into the back seat. "Lie down."

Doing as he was told Dov swung his feet to the passenger side and hung his head out the open door so he could still see her. The pills were starting to take effect and that mixed with utter exhaustion was making him loopy again. "Gail?"

"Don't start with me, Epstein." She'd just about run out of patience and if one more confession came out of his mouth she didn't know she'd be able to control herself.

Dov paid the warning no heed. He finally had an excuse to say all the things he'd been holding back since they'd met and he was going to take it. "You're beautiful, you know? Even upside-down."

Gail let out an exasperated sigh. "Shut up, Dov." She should have let him suffer.

Andy raised an amused eyebrow at the blonde, commiserating, "This what you've been dealing with all day?"

"Worse," Gail admitted. She couldn't stop him from babbling but she  _could_  explain it away as harmless. "I also had to listen to him extol his girlfriend's virtues…"

"I told her I love her," Dov supplied helpfully.

Gail didn't know which of them the second 'her' referred to but she glared down at him anyway. "… _And_  call my boyfriend a dog." It wasn't the whole story but it was true enough.

"In a good way," Dov defended quietly from his prone position.

 _Ouch_. Andy didn't know that there  _was_  a good way to be called a dog. "How have you not killed him?" Gail had come a ways since the Academy but she hadn't come  _that_  far.

"Sheer willpower?" Gail couldn't help but laugh when Dov pouted at her. Turning back to Andy she put on her best haughty Elaine Peck impression: "Peck's  _uphold_ the law, dear; they  _do not_  flout it."

They were all laughing when Chris joined them, and he put a possessive arm around his girlfriend. "What's so funny?"

"The fact that Dov's only alive 'cause Gail's afraid of her mom," Andy told him, grinning. It was hilarious to her that big bad Gail was reduced to a big ball of submissive by her mother of all people.

"I'm not afraid of my mom," Gail quickly denied, "I just know better than to disappoint her by doing something silly like commit murder." Raising an unimpressed eyebrow at Dov she added, "As understandable as it might have been."

It wouldn't be  _Gail_  murdering him Dov would need to be worried about if Chris found out his best friend had acted on his feelings for his girlfriend. "Why? What happened?" he feigned ignorance.

Gail tried not to look guilty when she smiled up at him. "I'll tell you later. Right now Prince Valium here needs a real bed."

"Ooh!" Dov piped up. "Can we watch  _Spaceballs_  when we get home?"

"Whatever you want, Bud." There was a dangerous undertone to Chris' words but no one seemed to notice.

Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend's weakness Gail informed him, "You know he won't even make it through the opening credits…" And if he somehow  _did_  she'd get sucked into watching it. Again.

"Will too…" Except Dov would be Lone Starr, not Prince Valium, and she would be his Druish princess (but they'd still celebrate Christmas 'cause Christmas is awesome) and a fortune cookie would tell him they were meant to be together and… "Can we stop for Chinese?"

With everything going on Gail realized they'd never eaten dinner, which was probably why the pills had gone straight to his head. " _Home_ , Dov. If you can stay awake long enough I'll make you a sandwich, okay?"

Chris told himself it was maternal instincts that had her being so nice to Dov (they  _were_  his foster parents after all), trying to ignore the voice in his head that said she'd treated  _him_  the same way when he'd been recuperating. "You need a ride?" he directed at Andy.

Andy waved a hand at Dov, smiling. "I don't think you've got the room…"

"It's not far," Chris argued, suggesting, "Just put his head in your lap…"

"His legs," Gail corrected shortly, moving to close the door. "I don't think his girlfriend would appreciate his head being in some chick's lap…"

 _Some chick?_  Andy raised an offended eyebrow that Gail (of course) ignored.

"What do you care?" Dov teased her, "You hate my girlfriend…" He had to scoot up quickly to avoid the door slamming on his head.

 _Good question._  Chris looked at Gail, waiting for her response.

Taking the keys from Andy Gail led her to the passenger side and handed them to Chris once they were all in the car. "Very true," she admitted, glancing back at Dov. "But the girl  _did_  do all of womankind the ginormous favour of taking you off the market. Least  _you_  can do is not screw it up…"

Dov swallowed hard, getting the message loud and clear. Not wanting anyone to see the hurt in his eyes he closed them and pretended to go to sleep.

Gail breathed an inward sigh of relief when Chris started the car, apparently satisfied with her answer. Maybe they'd make it through the night after all…


	3. Chapter 3

They made small talk until they got to Traci's place where they bid Andy good night then headed for home. Gail caught Chris sneaking peeks at her out of the corner of his eye and the guilt she'd been suppressing all night surfaced with a vengeance.

"You gonna tell me what's going on?" Chris asked finally, giving her a chance to come clean.

"What do you mean?" Gail hedged, pulling his hand into her lap and entwining their fingers.

Chris saw right through her attempt to distract him. She thought she was unreadable but she never could hide it when she was nervous. Cover it up with false bravado, maybe, but not hide it. "Dov told you, didn't he?"

Tamping down a sudden wave of panic Gail deadpanned, "Told me what?" She wouldn't put it past him to be trying to get her to incriminate herself. They were cops, after all – it's what they did…

"Don't play dumb..." Chris knew everyone took his tendency to avoid confrontation to mean he was clueless and thus easy to deceive; he hated that she knew better and was  _still_  trying. "I saw you sitting outside The Penny…"

Cracking an eye open Dov saw Gail subconsciously bite her bottom lip, the way she did when she was thinking. He would speak up to take the focus off her but didn't think she'd appreciate the gesture.

Gail tried to figure out what Chris might have seen that would have him so suspicious but couldn't come up with anything. "I told you…"

"I'm not stupid, Gail!" he interrupted, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. "You think I don't see the way he looks at you? Or how he has to look  _away_ when we're close?" Chris let out a harsh laugh. "He was standing on a bomb for God's sake and he was worried about  _you_!"

She wanted to ask what he was talking about but  _refrained_ ; wanted to glance back at Dov but  _refrained_. For a word that normally wasn't even part of her vocabulary she'd been doing a whole hell of a lot of it lately.

Dov couldn't just lay back and let her take it anymore so he struggled to sit up. "Leave her alone, man. It's not her fault."

Once she got past the initial surprise of him being awake Gail spat, "Dov, shut up! I can defend myself…" It wasn't  _her_  Chris was mad at. Not really. Not yet, anyway.

Nope –  _no appreciation there_.

"What do you have to defend  _against_ , Gail?" Chris grabbed onto her words. "Did you do something?"

"Chris,  _no_!" she replied vehemently.  _Truthfully_. Except it was precisely what she  _hadn't_  done that was eating away at her like acid. She  _hadn't_  stopped Dov's babbling, not even when she'd figured out what he was babbling  _about_. She hadn't stopped him from taking her hand oh-so-gently in his, hadn't stopped him from pressing his lips to her wrist like she was the most precious thing in the world. And most importantly she hadn't told him that it wouldn't (couldn't) happen. She hadn't done  _any_  of those things, and she wouldn't stop long enough to think about  _why_ because she was pretty sure she wouldn't like the answer. "We didn't kiss if that's what you're implying…"

Dov would have backed her up but knew she wanted to deal with it her way. Big surprise, there. They might as well have been talking about the transient on the corner for all he was being included in the conversation.

After a lengthy pause (during which he decided he didn't want the details) Chris asked her, "Were you going to tell me?"

"I don't know." She hadn't thought that far ahead, hadn't thought beyond making it through the night. But she couldn't deny that she'd been avoiding telling him, either. "Probably not," she allowed.

Chris took a deep breath, his hands tightening around the wheel. "Why not?"

Lots of reasons, at least one of which she didn't really want to acknowledge. "Because I didn't want to make things worse,  _okay_?"

Turning to her Chris scoffed, "Is it bad, Gail? Really? 'Cause you're being pretty damn understanding about it considering you usually have the patience of a  _gnat_!"

Gail knew he had every right to be upset but how out-of-character he was being put her on edge. "What do you want me to do, Chris?" she bit back, trying to put him on the defensive. "We have to  _live together_  for Christ's sake!"

 _Ouch._  Dov could've done without that particular blow to his ego.

What Chris  _wanted_  was for her to tell him it was all one-sided, that he had no reason to feel like he was gonna lose her to his best friend. But apparently she wasn't going to. Parking her car next to his S.U.V. he shut off the ignition and turned to her. "Get out of the car."

The tightness of his voice made her nervous. "No. Chris…"

"Get out of the car, Gail," he repeated evenly.

Gail shifted her gaze to Dov, who just nodded at her. "Don't do anything stupid," she told them before getting out of the car. Leaning up against it she pulled her jacket tighter around herself and tried not to cry.

As soon as the door closed behind her Dov tried, "Look, man, don't blame her; she doesn't even…"

" _Don't_." He didn't need Dov telling him how Gail felt. "I can't believe you'd betray me like this, man." He could deal with his best friend secretly having feelings for his girlfriend – he didn't like it but he understood it and could deal with it. What he  _couldn't_ deal with was his best friend  _acting_  on those feelings. "I don't care if it's because of the pills – you crossed a line that can't be uncrossed."

Dov had no excuse. "I know."

Deflated, Chris sat back in his seat to stare out into the shadows. Maybe he'd be dealing better if it weren't on top of the Samuels thing. Maybe he'd be dealing better if he wasn't so worried Gail felt the same. "This isn't over."

"I know." Dov was well aware that the only thing keeping him from getting his ass kicked was that he was already injured. That, and maybe Gail. Except when he was all better she'd probably be next in line to do it. First even.

"You're okay to walk?" Chris verified without turning around.

It was more statement than question, and Dov took it as a warning to not let Gail help him. "Yeah."

Gail sighed in relief when they got out of the car intact but didn't say anything. They made their way to the apartment in terribly awkward silence, Dov going straight to his room and her throwing her jacket on the chair before going into the kitchen with Chris on her heels.

Chris watched her, arms crossed, while she pulled food from the fridge, marvelling at what a difference a few hours could make. He'd been so anxious to see her, needed so badly to hold her after the day he'd had; wanted to tell her about the Samuels thing so she could tell him he'd made the right decision, that he should do whatever he had to do to protect himself and to hell with everyone else. But now he wasn't even sure he could trust her. And it killed him.

"Did you eat?" Gail asked him, more for something to say than because she thought he was hungry.

"Yeah."

 _That went well._  Finishing up best she could under the scrutiny she turned around and held one of the plates out to him.

Chris' brow furrowed. "What's this for?" Had he misunderstood the question?

"Well, I'm assuming you don't want  _me_  bringing it to him…" When he reached out to take it Gail pulled back. "Can I trust you not to suffocate him with his own pillow?" Her tone was teasing but there was a part of her that thought he might be tempted.

Dov came out of his bedroom in sweats and a t-shirt, the eerie quiet making him feel the need to check on her. He found Chris staring at her blankly, her at him expectantly, and he stepped in to break the deadlock. In his own way. "So no  _Spaceballs_ , then?"

" _Jesus Christ,_ Dov," Gail sighed. She was considering muzzling him when Chris turned around and punched him right in the face. "Chris!"

"No – it's okay…" Dov muttered from the floor where he'd landed. Not only did he deserve it but it had the intended effect of taking Chris' attention off of her. Thank God for the pills, though, 'cause he was pretty sure his nose was broken…

Gail turned to Chris with a disapproving eyebrow. "Feel better?"

No, he didn't feel better. His best friend was on the ground with a bloody nose and his girlfriend was looking at him like she didn't recognize him. At the moment Chris didn't even recognize himself. Without a word he started to walk out.

"Leave the car keys, Chris." She wouldn't stop him from leaving, he needed time to cool down, but she wouldn't have him putting anyone's life at risk (especially his own) by driving angry. Not when he'd also had a few drinks.

Silly him for thinking she'd tell him to stay. Or choose to go with him.

Staring him down Gail repeated, " _Keys_ , Chris."

Chris pulled the keys from his pocket and walked back to slam them on the table. Giving her a mocking salute he left.

Gail ran a hand through her hair as the front door slammed. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Besides the fact that his nose had become a leaky rusty faucet? "I didn't like the way he was looking at you."

"You're such an idiot," she reprimanded half-heartedly. "Chris would never hurt me..." He wasn't capable of it. Well, he was capable of it; he just wasn't  _capable_ of it.

Dov didn't think so either but he hadn't been willing to take the chance. Using the couch for leverage he managed to stand up.

Gail went into the kitchen and leaned over the counter to take to a calming breath. "Go to bed, Dov."

He stared at her back for a second more before heading to his room, stopping on the way to get a wad of toilet paper for his owie. He was just settling into his bed when she surprised him by coming in with her hands full. Without knocking.

"Here," she said shortly, offering him one of his pills and the glass of water. When he'd swallowed it she took the glass back and handed him the damp cloth and the sandwich.

"Thanks." She wasn't happy with him, he knew; she was doing it because she felt she had to.

"Good night, Dov." She went to leave, then narrowed her eyes when he grabbed her arm. "I'm not kissing you goodnight..."

That hadn't been what he was looking for but now that she'd mentioned it… "I want to say I'm sorry."

Fat lot of good 'sorry' did them. She didn't have the heart to tell him to stuff it, though, with him laying there with the cloth up his nose.

She was just looking down at him, unimpressed, and he felt the need to clarify, "Not for loving you. I will never apologize for that…"

"Dov…" She wouldn't (couldn't) let him know what he was doing to her, but he must have known that he wasn't making anything better.

Dov let his hand slip down her arm to take hers. "I'm sorry for putting you in this position."

Not sorry enough to stop talking about it, apparently. Or to keep his hands to himself. "Dov, eat your sandwich."

She tried to get loose but he held fast, finding the strength  _somewhere_  to pull her to sit beside him. "But mostly I'm sorry for today."

"Yeah – I think we covered that." Gail had the fleeting thought that if Chris walked in on this she wouldn't be able to stop him from killing Dov. And she might be proven wrong on that whole 'he would never hurt me' thing…

Dov shook his head, moving their joined hands to rest on his chest where he stared at them, fascinated, while he played with her fingers. "I want to be there for you. I  _need_  to be there for you. And today I wasn't. You could have been hurt in that apartment…"

"Dov, it's okay…" She'd been pissed off, angry beyond belief, actually, but it had turned out alright. Which was more than she could say for the rest of it.

"It's  _not_  okay…" He looked up finally, into her perfect crystalline eyes. "I don't know what I would have done if you'd…" He trailed off, the possibility too awful to think about much less speak aloud.

The look he was giving her, full of fear and dread, was a painful reminder of how terrified she'd been when he was in that meth lab, not knowing whether or not he'd make it out alive. Putting the glass on his nightstand Gail allowed herself to brush the hair out of his face. "Go to sleep, Dov," she whispered hoarsely, "It'll be better in the morning."

Dov fought valiantly against the heaviness of his eyelids, needing to commit to memory the feel of her fingers running through his hair, absolutely certain it would never happen again.

Once his eyes had fluttered shut Gail stopped her ministrations and reclaimed her other hand from his slack grasp. Going to curl up on the couch she stared into nothingness for what felt like hours, waiting for  _something_  to happen, either Chris to come home or Dov to need something. She finally went to bed at around one, alone.

The alarm clock read 2:35 when Chris stumbled into their bed, waking her up with wandering hands and whiskey on his breath. He took her then, rough, hard, without a word; marking her body like he was marking his territory. And she let him. She might even have enjoyed it if she hadn't been able to tell by the look in his eyes that he was in a hell of a lot more pain than he was inflicting.


	4. Chapter 4

It  _wasn't_  better in the morning; quieter and less violent, but not better. Gail knew when she woke up in Chris' vice-like grip that it probably wouldn't be better for a while. And she wasn't wrong. If she'd thought the night before had been awkward breakfast was even more so, what with all of them sober and cognizant. Chris refused to even acknowledge Dov's existence if it didn't involve making sure he was nowhere near her, and Dov was tip-toeing around them both. Gail would have screamed at them to stop if she weren't so worried about what the alternative would be.

They ended up going into work separately, Chris giving her a dirty look when she told Dov it was time to go, Dov seeing it and telling her he had stuff to do first and would meet them at parade. When the pair got to the station Gail did what any good (guilt-ridden and confused) girlfriend  _would_  do and went to Frank to ask that she not be partnered with Dov until further notice. She didn't bother giving him a reason, didn't really think he'd seriously consider the request (didn't even know that she  _wanted_ him to) but after a minute of hand-steepled contemplation he agreed. And Gail was left wondering (not for the first time) whether being the Superintendent's daughter was a blessing or a curse. Thanking him half-heartedly she went to leave, then turned around to advise him that he probably shouldn't pair Dov with Chris either. She didn't stick around long enough for him to put two and two together.

The next week and a half went much the same, Chris acting like nothing was going on while surreptitiously watching her every move. They spent most of their shifts apart; her with either Traci or Noelle, him with Andy, Dov with Oliver, and there were no more 'we survived the day' trips to The Penny. Gail didn't blame him for being cautious,  _couldn't_  when she knew he had every reason to be, but she didn't normally make a habit of letting anyone dictate her life (anyone not named Elaine, anyway) and it wasn't long before the short leash he had her on started to chafe. Still, she said nothing. Not when Dov stopped coming home after work, started getting in late and leaving early. Not even when more often than not he stopped coming home at all. She refused to think about  _where_  he was spending all his time; refused to admit she missed the video games and frozen drinks and snark that had made up most of their nights since before she'd even fully moved in.  _Couldn't_ because if she did then the chafing would turn to resentment and she was trying to  _save_  her relationship, not sabotage it.

"So… 'Girl's Night Out' tonight?"

Gail looked up from last shift's half-finished paperwork to find Andy and Traci standing over her. "What?"

Traci raised a teasing eyebrow. "I know you're probably not familiar with the concept but it's this thing female friends do…"

"I know what it is," Gail cut her off. She didn't  _get it_  but she knew what it was. "The question is ' _why_?'"

"'Cause it's time for  _someone…"_  Traci tilted her head not-so-subtly at Andy. "…to get back on the horse. And since she still refuses to give horse  _guy_  a chance..."

Rolling her eyes Gail turned her attention back to the forms. "You think the best place to find a lasting relationship is at a club?" She'd be better off with horse guy…

Hearing the disdain in the blonde's voice Andy quietly justified, "I've sworn off cops..." She didn't think she needed to elaborate on  _why_.

"From decorated officers to drunken perverts…" Gail countered, still scribbling, "Quite the step up there…"

"Well, it kinda narrows my options…" Andy defended with a pout. The least Gail could do was look at the person she was mocking.

Gail finally glanced up again, suggesting with a dismissive wave of the pen, "Take a cooking class, join a gym. Set your new place on fire so you can meet hot firemen…"

"Can I do that?" Andy asked no one in particular. After a moment of internal debate she decided, "No, I can't do that; I'd have to arrest myself."

Traci rolled her eyes; girl needed a serious distraction. And she wasn't the only one… "Come on, Gail. It'll be fun," she enticed with a smile. "We can go out, let loose, shamelessly flirt with handsome young men to get free drinks…"

"Yeah, Chris'll  _love_  that." Gail needed more men in her life like she needed a bullet in the head. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass."

Andy exchanged a knowing look with Traci before trying, "You owe me, Gail…"

"For what?" Gail scoffed up at her. "And why would you want to be repaid with my company?" Last she checked they weren't even friends…

Why did she have to be so stubborn? Andy shrugged. "Honestly? You haven't gone out of your way to be mean lately and it's worrisome."

"Seriously?" They  _wanted_  her to be mean? Maybe the  _whole_ world had gone crazy and not just her tiny part of it…

Seeing Gail's dubious expression Traci tried, "And two girls out just looks pathetic…" Not that she thought the blonde would be more likely to do them a favor.

"It does," Andy agreed. At least with three they could pretend they were Charlie's Angels or something…

Well, it  _would_  be nice to get out of the apartment, and while there would be guys none would be named Dov so Chris couldn't really say anything. "Fine." Closing the file Gail stood up to head to parade. "But unless you can remember what I owe you for, you owe me now…"

Andy followed, turning to Traci with a mocking, "Sounds like fun, guys. Thanks so much for the invite!"

"No problem, Gail," Traci played along with a grin, "That's what friends are for…"

Gail rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips; for the first time in a while she was actually looking forward to end of shift. Taking her usual seat she glanced around the room, mouthing 'hey' to Dov even though she'd just seen him in the Tac room not a half hour before. It wasn't sneaking around, she told herself, if they just so happened to go in for their gear at the same time and made small talk while they got their stuff together. And if she  _just so happened_  to make sure Chris was distracted for those ten minutes… well, it was only 'cause it was less complicated that way.

"Alright, Officers; let's get this day in gear!" Frank greeted, walking in with a bunch of files in hand.

"You're late," Gail whispered to Chris when he finally slid into the seat next to her.

Chris avoided her gaze. "Yeah, I uh…" Waving a hand at Frank he trailed off.

Gail narrowed her eyes, knowing something was up. He'd been acting strange since the day before (almost like the old Chris, all meekness and avoidance) and this morning he'd barely looked at her. She tried to figure out what it could be while half-listening to the announcements Frank was making.

"Diaz, you have that meeting with the rep from Internal Affairs at eleven so you're out of rotation for the day. Everyone else – your assignments are on the board. Stay safe out there!"

And there it was. Turning to Chris she demanded, "What meeting with I.A.?"

"Uh…" Chris looked around like a caged animal. "I gotta go… file something."

Before she could call him on the obvious BS he was gone, and she saw Dov giving her a questioning look. She returned it with a confused shrug – she had no idea what was going on, either. She sure as hell was going to find out, though…

"Gail, you're with me; 1504," Traci called out to her.

"Yay!" Gail faked enthusiasm, following her out the door.

Traci offered her the keys to the cruiser.

Lost in thought Gail shook her head. "You drive."

If Traci hadn't known something was off before she definitely did now. Gail never passed up the opportunity to drive; usually required it, actually. Once they were in the car she casually asked, "So what's up with I.A.?"

Gail stared out the window, admitting, "No idea."

Glancing at the blonde Traci confirmed skeptically, "Chris didn't tell you?"

Was she hard of hearing? Tamping down on the irritation Gail replied evenly, "Nope."

"But Chris tells you everything." After a beat Traci added, "Chris tells  _everyone_ everything."

Gail turned to glare at her, biting off, "Well, apparently not  _this_."

Things were obviously a lot worse than Traci had suspected. "Seriously, Gail –  _what_  is going on with you guys?"

"Nothing's going on," Gail lied for the umpteenth time. She had no intention of sharing the details of her messy personal life. No matter how often Traci asked.

"Please!" Gail was delusional if she thought no one noticed that Chris and Dov were barely speaking, or that she and Dov only interacted when Chris wasn't around. It was about as much a secret as Andy and Sam's UST… "You might as well have dispatch announce the three of you had a falling out…"

So long as everyone was smart enough not to say anything to her face Gail didn't care  _what_ they thought. Traci, apparently, lacked that sense of self-preservation. "Just drop it, Traci."

Traci heard the defeat in Gail's tone, saw it in her slumped posture, and decided she would. For now. But tonight (with a little help from alcohol) she  _was_  going to get it out of her. Because that's what friends were for.

The day went by at a snail's pace for Gail, Traci chatting about their plans during their down time and Chris sending her phone calls straight to voice mail. There was only so long he could avoid her – he had to know that. At the end of shift when she'd emerged from the locker room he was already waiting (hiding) in the jeep.

"Hey, Babe," Chris greeted her, throwing the car into gear as soon as she got in it.

Gail wasted no time with pleasantries. "You gonna tell me what's going on?"

His eyes were on the road but he could feel hers boring into him. "What do you mean?"

The conversation was like déjà vu. "I'm not stupid, Chris," she threw his words back at him. "I.A. doesn't show up just to see how you're liking the job…"

"They just wanted to talk," Chris tried, knowing full well it wouldn't work.

Gail had to bite her lip to keep from snapping. "About  _what_?" If she had to call her mom to find out what was going on with her own boyfriend there would be hell to pay.

"Uh…stuff?" He didn't even know why he was avoiding telling her; she was going to find out sooner than later anyway.

Taking a deep breath she warned, "Chris, so help me…"

Before she could finish the threat he blurted out, "Samuels, okay?"

 _Ugh._  Gail hated that kid with a passion, all slime and smarm and conceit. She didn't trust him as far as she could throw him, wouldn't leave her drink with him unattended, and if he and Chris had still been friends when they'd started dating it wouldn't have been for long. "What  _about_  Samuels?"

Chris heard the disgust in her voice and cringed in anticipation of her reaction. "He got into another accident; this time while on duty."

Which surprised Gail not at all; the boy was nothing if not incompetent. "What's that got to do with you?"

Shrugging what he hoped was nonchalantly he explained, "I was there the first time – they just want to make sure it's not a recurring problem."

Gail knew that wasn't the whole story, not with the way he was acting. "Well,  _is it_?"

The accusation in her tone put him on edge. "No! He swore to me this time he was just overtired…"

Raising an eyebrow she repeated, "This time?"

Chris had realized his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth but hadn't been able to take them back. And he should've known better than to hope she wouldn't notice. "Gail…"

" _Spill_ , Chris." She really didn't like where it was going but she needed to know what the hell he'd gotten himself into.

"He was drunk, okay?" he admitted quietly, steeling himself for the explosion.

Gail turned her attention out the window, trying to remember the details. They hadn't run in the same crowd then so it had been more gossip to her than anything. "You said it was an accident. You told the first responders and the Academy it wasn't his fault…"

Chris swallowed hard. "He swore to me it was a mistake – that it would never happen again."

She'd expected him to say he hadn't known, because there was no  _way_  her Chris would do something like that. "You covered for a drunk driver?"

Her tone was level but he knew she was anything but calm. "No one got hurt, Gail..."

"That's your excuse?" she snapped, turning to glare at him. "Someone  _could_ have been hurt, Chris.  _You_  could have been hurt." Shaking her head in disbelief she muttered, "We're  _cops,_  for Christ's sake." How did he justify that?

Chris turned to her once he'd parked. "I was protecting my best friend…"

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" she spat before getting out of the car, slamming the door behind her.

Jumping out to follow her he defended, "It was just the once – I stopped hanging out with him because of it…"

That was supposed to make it okay? "You gave me this holier-than-thou 'have to do the right thing' spiel about turning Bibby in when you'd lied,  _under oath_ , about something as serious as drunk driving!" The rampant hypocrisy made it really hard for her not to turn around and hit him.

When Chris had considered all the reasons she'd be upset (putting himself on the line for Samuels of all people, aiding and abetting, lying to the cops) that one hadn't even made the list and he'd thought at worst she'd be disapproving yet supportive. Now that she was taking it personally it was the  _best_  he could hope for. "Gail…"

"I don't want to hear it, Chris!" She threw open the door to their building, not caring when it hit him in the shoulder. Served him right for yipping at her heels like some mutt…

"I couldn't do it again!" Running to get ahead of her he turned around so she could see the sincerity in his eyes. "It ate at me, Gail! Do you know how many nights I couldn't sleep because I went along with it?"

Gail kept speed-walking, forcing him to jog backwards down the hall. "And how many nights do you think Samuels stayed awake, Chris?" she proposed. "How do you even know it  _was_ the first time?"

Chris  _didn't_  know; hated that he was starting to think it hadn't been, and that it wouldn't be the last, either. "He was my best friend, Gail. I believed him…"

Once they were inside the apartment she threw her hands up in the air with a huffed, "And you just gave him the benefit of the doubt? 'Cause he was your best friend?"

Not realizing the trap he was wandering into Chris mumbled, "Yeah."

"So where the hell was all your brotherly love leniency when Steve asked you to let  _him_  handle Bibby?" Gail demanded with a raised eyebrow. " _His_ best friend?"

Chris knew there wasn't an answer she'd accept. "Gail…"

"My brother hasn't spoken to me since we got back together, Chris," she reminded him with a hiss. "And I dealt with it because while I don't share your convictions I couldn't blame you for sticking to them…"

"Well I guess my judgment just sucks then," he broke in, needing to put the focus elsewhere before she told him  _why_  she was using the past tense. "Especially when it comes to choosing best friends…"

" _Don't,_ " Gail warned, tone dangerous, eyes narrowed, as she advanced on him. "Don't you  _dare_  try to make this about Dov." When his back hit the wall she poked him violently in the chest. "This is about  _you_ making everyone bow to kiss your ring while you're secretly diddling little boys in the choir room!"

Chris cringed at the colorful analogy but wouldn't argue; not when she was  _this_ close to ending it. Meeting her angry gaze he begged, "Gail, don't do this…"

She just looked at him, unmoved by his plea. "How long have you known?" Her voice was even again but she was still shaking inside.

If he told her that Chris knew he was done for. "Gail, please…"

" _How long?_ " she growled.

Swallowing hard Chris admitted, "Since that day."

Gail didn't need to ask  _which_ day he meant;  _that day_  would forever be burned into her memory as the day everything had changed. She hadn't been able to do anything then, just stand by helplessly while first Dov then Chris, intentionally or not, turned her entire world upside down. But now,  _today,_  it was up to her what happened next.  _She_  had the power. And for the first time in her life she wished she didn't…


	5. Chapter 5

The living room was deathly quiet while Gail struggled with what to do. She knew if it weren't for the Dov thing Chris would have told her about the Samuels thing; knew without a doubt he  _hadn't_  told her because he hadn't wanted to lose his leverage. What she  _didn't_  know was what her reaction would have been if he'd told her  _then_ , if she was just overreacting  _now_  because of Dov and what had happened since; didn't know that she  _could_  blame him for not telling her when he wouldn't have had any leverage  _to_  lose if she hadn't given it to him.

"Gail?" Chris whispered when the silence (and waiting) got to be too much.

The tables may have turned but Gail was far from absolved of guilt, and she couldn't ignore the nagging thought that if she broke up with him over this it would be nothing more than a convenient excuse. "What did you tell I.A.?"

Chris' brow furrowed at the sudden change in topic. He didn't know what answer she wanted so he went with the truth, carefully admitting, "I stuck with the story."

Running a shaky hand through her hair Gail nodded. "And there's no chance Samuels will flip on you?"

"No." Aaron had more to lose than Chris did, though it didn't feel that way with Gail staring him down in quiet contemplation.

"Good." She was going to have a talk with Samuels anyway, just to make sure the douche knew exactly  _who_  he'd have to deal with if he decided to try anything stupid.

"Good?" Chris didn't know what that meant.

The power was all hers again but with him staring at her hopefully Gail had never felt so powerless. "This shit with Dov ends  _now_. Hear me?"

He just nodded, relief flooding his body. If she wasn't taking the opportunity to break up with him then maybe she didn't have feelings for Dov after all, in which case he had nothing to worry about. Bringing her to him he pressed a grateful kiss to the side of her head.

"And Chris?" she muttered into his ear, deadly serious, "If you ever,  _ever,_ try to claim the moral high ground with me again…" She pulled back to meet his gaze. "…we're  _done_."

He knew she absolutely undoubtedly meant it, and the relief turned to anxiety. "Uh… okay?"

She placed a gentle kiss on his lips to soften the blow. "Okay." With a pat to the cheek she announced, "I'm going to take a shower and then I'm going out."

Chris blinked in surprise as she walked away. "Huh?" They'd just pulled their relationship back from the brink of extinction and she was leaving?

"With Nash and McNally," she told him before shutting the bathroom door. If she hadn't been looking forward to it before she was craving it now.

The door always stayed open if Dov wasn't home (actually Chris was usually in there  _with_   _her_  if Dov wasn't home) and he realized he was on probation.

Gail wasn't surprised to find him sitting on the bed when she emerged twenty minutes later. Annoyed, yes, but not surprised. Without a word she set to drying her hair.

"Can I come?" Chris asked once she'd turned the blow dryer off and began to do her makeup.

"Sorry – Girl's Night Out," she shrugged at him through the mirror. But she wasn't sorry; she'd gladly go get her whole body waxed if it meant getting away for a while.

Chris would have thought it was an excuse to get away from him if he hadn't known she wouldn't  _use_  one – she'd just leave. "How come?"

Gail wasn't aware they  _needed_  a reason. Moving to the closet she started tossing clothes haphazardly on the bed. "'Cause Andy is apparently incapable of finding an appropriate boyfriend  _outside_  of a bar."

Her tone told him just what she thought of  _that_  idea. "Then why are you going?" She cycled through outfits, eyeing a couple he wouldn't approve of, but even if he hadn't been treading on thin ice Chris knew better than to try telling her what to wear.

The twenty questions were seriously beginning to grate on her nerves. Suppressing the irritation she pulled out black dress pants and a blue silk wrap-around blouse. "She needs wingmen to sift through the guys and send her the good ones." She waved a disinterested hand. "Or something."

"Can't you cancel?" he suggested as she changed, thankfully into something not revealing. "We could make some popcorn and watch a movie…"

For a split second she considered it, just wanting things to go back to normal, but tonight at least she needed space. "Leo is with Dex and it's the only night Traci can." Going to her jewelry box she started to accessorize, his eyes following her every move.

Chris couldn't help but feel that if she walked out that door he was gonna lose her somehow. "I don't think I like the idea of you going to bars without me…"

Gail's patience snapped. "Then  _don't_  think – it's not your strong suit anyway." She leaned over the dresser and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. "Chris, I didn't mean that…" Apparently the chafing had been given a violent push into resentment without her noticing.

He began to hang up her scattered clothes without a word, wondering if maybe she  _had_  meant it.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pressing her cheek against his back while she blinked away tears. Things that had barely bothered her before were like nails on a chalkboard now, and she didn't need to ask herself  _when_  being with him had become such a chore. She knew damn well.

Chris turned and wrapped her up tightly in his arms. "Me, too." It would just take some time to get back to the way things were, that's all…

"I'll try not to stay out too late, okay?" she promised, breaking the embrace.

It was the best he was gonna get, he knew. Brushing his lips against hers he mumbled, "I'll call you a cab." Maybe the sooner she left the sooner she'd be back…

Gail slid into her shoes while he found his phone, feeling sick to her stomach. She'd made the decision to stick it out; the least she could do was not punish him for it.

"On its way," he told her once he'd made the call.

"Thanks, Babe." Taking her purse and jacket from him she let him walk her to the door. "See you later."

Chris bent down to give her one last kiss, trying to show her how much her forgiveness meant to him. How much  _she_  meant to him…

When he finally released her Gail had to take a second to get her breath back. "I gotta go…"

"I know," he conceded with a pout.

Gail forced a smile before walking out, and it killed her that he only closed the door once she was out of sight. When she got outside she was so distracted she bumped into Dov as he was coming up the walkway. Covering up her surprise she mumbled an awkward, "Hey."

"Hey." Dov had almost forgotten what she looked like in street clothes; the refresher course was more than worth the bruised shoulder. "Where you going all dressed up?"

"Girl's Night Out with Traci and Andy…" she admitted with a grimace.

Dov raised a teasing eyebrow. "And they invited  _you_?"

She huffed, pretending to take offence 'cause she couldn't muster up the real thing. "Yeah, well Andy's trying to find a 'less-cop/ more-delinquent' boyfriend," she told him wryly. "I guess they figure next to me she'll look like a real catch."

"Not a chance," Dov promised. The top made the blue of her eyes pop even more than they normally did and he for one couldn't tear his own away. "You're beautiful…"

Gail forced down the lump in her throat to clarify, "I meant my personality, Dov." She'd intended it to be condescending but it had come out breathless, at least to her own ears.

He shook his head. "Any guy that lets your mouth chase him off isn't worth your time, anyway." If his gaze happened to stray to her moist pink lips then it was just to make the point.

The tone of the conversation had gone from casual to intimate in 2.2 seconds and Gail felt the need to remind him (and herself) that they  _weren't_  intimate. "That would be really helpful advice if I were actually in the market for a new boyfriend…"

Guess she had her own point to make, and it was well (devastatingly) taken. "Stow it away in case you ever  _do_  need it, then…"

Gail had seen the hurt flash in his eyes even though he'd tried to hide it. She sure was on a roll tonight with the unintentional infliction of pain… "Dov…"

"It's fine." It wasn't her fault he had no control around her anymore, and he'd much rather a verbal smackdown than the pity.

 _Nothing_  was 'fine.' Not the situation, not him, not Chris, and sure as hell not her. But there was nothing she could say to make it any better without erasing the line she'd just drawn in the sand. Thankfully the cab pulled up then and she waved a hand in its direction. "That's my ride."

Dov turned to see the cab waiting. He didn't want her to go but he couldn't very well ask her to stay, either. "Okay."

After a few moments of prolonged eye contact she repeated, "Okay," and headed down to the street.

"Gail?" Dov wanted to tell her,  _needed_  to tell her, but when she turned to look at him expectantly he found he  _couldn't_  tell her. Forcing a grin he advised, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do…"

Gail stood there with a hand on the open cab door, feeling like he'd been about to say something else; knowing it was probably better that he hadn't. Raising a disapproving eyebrow she pointed out, "Leaves my options pretty wide open, doesn't it?"

The grin became genuine. "Smartass."  _God,_ he loved her.

"Boot-licker," she countered throatily. Trading insults wasn't supposed to feel like foreplay but there it was. "Night, Dov."

"Night, Gail," he whispered as she disappeared into the car.

Gail gave the driver the address Traci had given her then turned her attention out the window to heave a gigantic sigh. She'd made the right decision, she told herself; made the only one she  _could_  given the circumstances. She'd just have to ignore the voice in her head that said the  _right_ decision shouldn't make everyone involved miserable…


	6. Chapter 6

Gail knocked impatiently on the door, pushing past Andy as soon as she opened it. "I need a drink."

"Well, hello to you, too…" Andy rolled her eyes as she shut the door.

"Sorry." Apologizing twice in one day – it had to be some kind of record.

Well, she hadn't expected that. Blinking away her surprise Andy led the blonde into the kitchen. "Vodka tonic?"

Gail shook her head as she tossed her jacket and purse on the counter. "Hold the tonic."

"O- _kay,_ " Andy muttered worriedly, putting the bottle of tonic back down and grabbing the other one.

Coming out of the bathroom Traci saw what Gail was wearing and rolled her eyes. "Okay – what is  _with_  you two? We're going clubbing – not interviewing for jobs at the bank…"

"I don't know what  _her_  excuse is," Gail thumbed at Andy while accepting the glass from her, "but I've  _got_  a boyfriend." She downed the two fingers in one shot.

Traci raised an eyebrow at Andy but didn't say anything.

Giving a sympathetic shudder at the taste of straight vodka Andy defended, "I like to be comfortable…"

Gail tipped the empty glass at her, both as emphasis and for a refill. "Comfortable won't get you laid…"

"Inappropriate!" Andy admonished with a pout. She would have withheld the alcohol as punishment if she hadn't been told to ply her with it.

"Yet true," Gail stated unapologetically before downing that one too.

Apparently there was no plying necessary. Refilling the presented glass Andy sighed, "I'll just… bring the bottle with us." She had a bad feeling about this; Gail was unpredictable enough  _sober_.

"I'll replace it for your house-warming party," Gail offered, following them into the living room. "Hey – this place is actually pretty sweet…"

"Was that a compliment?" Andy feigned a swoon, falling onto the couch. Maybe they should  _keep_  this Gail…

"You can relax; it was directed at the architects." It wasn't like  _she'd_  designed it.

What she gave with one hand she snatched away with the other… "But it means I have good taste…" Andy argued as the blonde sat next to her.

Gail wouldn't point out Andy's track record or  _why_ they were having a girl's night; she was hardly in a position to throw stones. God, she missed being in a position where she could throw stones… "Yes, you have good taste.  _In_   _apartments_." Okay, she just couldn't seem to help herself.

Ignoring the dig Andy put the bottle on the table in front of Gail and subtly motioned for Traci to go ahead. The blonde seemed to have more respect for her for some reason.

"So what's going on?" Traci asked, faux-casually.

"I.A. wanted to talk to Chris about that greasy scumbag Samuels. Something that happened at the Academy…" Gail waved it away as unimportant even though the thought of it still made her see red. She drank the contents of her glass and quickly replaced them.

Andy nodded. She'd known Samuels had been coming on too strong. Even for him.

"Ah," Traci acknowledged even though that wasn't what she'd been asking. "Now tell me what I  _really_  want to know…"

Gail raised a mocking eyebrow. "If you're looking to sleep your way to the top you need to aim higher than a detective…"

For once the scorn wasn't directed at her and Andy had to stifle a snicker.

Traci had expected resistance – Gail was nothing if not guarded – so she let it go. "What's going on at casa des misfits, Gail?"

"Nothing's going on," Gail shrugged, downing another shot.

Feeling bad for partaking in the mocking of her best friend Andy snarked, "Yeah, I usually knock back a fifth of vodka when things are peachy keen…"

"Do you even remember what 'peachy keen' looks like?" Gail bit back. Andy might have been gaining a backbone but she wasn't ready for the big leagues just yet.

"If she doesn't want to talk about it then that's her choice," Traci allowed, taking a nonchalant drink from her glass.

Andy stopped pouting to shoot her a confused look. "Huh?" It was  _her_  idea…

"Thank you." Gail refilled her glass, aiming for 'sufficiently numb.' It was as good an objective as any…

Traci shrugged. "I'll just have to keep assuming she slept with Dov…"

Gail choked on the vodka, letting out a strangled, " _What_?"

"Not cool," Andy declared as she leaned over to slap the coughing blonde on the back. They weren't trying to  _kill_  her…

Once she could breathe again Gail huffed, "I am not, nor will I ever  _be_ , a cheater." Well aware she was sitting between two of them she added, "I have no patience for cheaters."

Hearing the accusation in her tone (knowing she was  _meant_  to) Traci pointed out, "There's more than one kind of cheating, Gail."

"No," Gail argued with a wave of the hand. "You can't control feelings. When you  _act_  on those feelings it becomes cheating."

Traci raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Don't you think you're splitting that hair a little thin, there?" Emotional cheating was still cheating, it was just harder to prove. And harder to control...

"It may be a fine line but it's there and I haven't crossed it." Gail wouldn't say she'd never been tempted but she was raised to have very good self-control.  _Thank God._

" _Hello_?" Andy looked between them incredulously. "Are we not going to address the fact that she just admitted she has feelings for Dov?"

"I admitted no such thing," Gail denied easily. "I was talking about cheating. Generally speaking…"

Trust Gail to be cagey and quick-witted even two sheets to the wind… "Well, it's a good thing," Traci sighed, "'Cause you returning his feelings would just be awkward…"

If Traci thought she was going to fall for the blatant manipulation she was wrong. "I don't know what you're talking about…"

Andy rolled her eyes as she took a sip of her own drink; Gail couldn't be convincingly clueless if her life depended on it.

Playing along, Traci 'informed' her, "Girl, that boy has been smitten with you since we hit the 15…"

"What?" Gail couldn't tell if it was part of the ploy to get her to spill or there was actually some basis to it.

"Lord knows why," Traci continued, purposefully ignoring the question. "You were such a raging bitch…"

"Don't worry," Andy quickly assured Gail, "You're still a bitch - just not so much with the raging…" Not all the time, anyway.

Gail narrowed her eyes at Andy before turning to Traci. "What are you talking about?"

"Never mind – it's obviously not important…"  _Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly._

" _Nash_ …" Now was not the time to mess with her.

Traci threw a triumphant grin at Andy. "He thought you had a thing for him. I got the feeling he was going to ask you out. You know, before he found out about you and Chris…"

Gail didn't want to believe her – didn't need things any more complicated than they already were – but suddenly she remembered Dov stalking them until he found out their dirty little secret and then showing up the next day hung over. "Oh,  _God._ " She grabbed the vodka off the table.

"No, no." Andy managed to snatch the bottle just before it reached her mouth. "Civilized people drink from  _glasses_."

Gail death glared her.

"Fine," Andy gave in petulantly, thrusting the bottle back at her. "But you better be able to hold your alcohol – if anyone is gonna puke in my new place it's gonna be  _me_."

She  _did_  feel like she was going to be sick but it wasn't from the alcohol. Gail shoved the bottle back onto the table without drinking and put her head between her knees.  _Just breathe._

The blonde mumbled something Traci couldn't make out. "What?"

"She's a horrible person," Andy translated.

"Oh. We knew that…" Traci joked half-heartedly, trying to shake the feeling things were a lot more serious than she'd thought.

Gail couldn't even argue, moaning, "I constantly belittled him. I took over his apartment. I cavorted with Chris in front of him. And the whole time…" Oh _, God._

Meeting Andy's gaze Traci mouthed ' _cavorted_? _'_

Andy shrugged while awkwardly rubbing Gail's back. It sounded dirty to her but what did she know…

"God, I didn't  _know_ …" Gail couldn't bear it, the sensation of drowning. Glaring at Traci she hissed, "Why would you do this to me?"

Traci saw the absolute agony in her eyes and realized she'd pushed maybe a little too hard. "Gail…"

"You only invited me to grill me on what's going on…" Gail had  _known_ something was up and she'd still gone along with it. Was that how desperate she'd become?

Andy's gaze darted guiltily to Traci. "Gail, it's not like that…"

It wasn't the only reason they'd invited her but Traci couldn't say it wasn't  _a_ reason. And she'd been so focused on getting the story she hadn't stopped to think maybe there was a  _reason_  Gail was stonewalling so hard.

"Save it, Andy; I know she's the ringleader of this little dog and pony show." Standing up Gail quashed a wave of nausea and dizziness, and this time it probably  _was_ the alcohol. "So what is it,  _Trace_? Are you bored? Is your life so perfect right now you need to use  _my_ life as entertainment?"

"Sit down, Gail," Andy pleaded. This was not the way the night was supposed to go.

Shaking off Andy's hand Gail spat, "Or is it revenge?" She looked between them, swallowing hard. "Get the mean girl back by pretending to be friends and then completely humiliating her?" The betrayal bothered her far more than it should.

Traci finally found her voice to explain, "I was just trying to help…" And Lord knew Gail wouldn't  _ask_.

" _Help_?" Gail scoffed. "Do you know how much  _worse_  you've just made it?" And she'd barely been hanging on as it was…

"Gail, I'm sorry." Traci stood up and approached her carefully. "If I'd known…"

Gail held her hands out between them like a shield. "You know what? I may be a bitch but at least I  _own_ it. This…" Shaking her head she walked to the kitchen and picked up her stuff, choking out, "If  _this_  is what friends are for I'm going to stick to making enemies…" Before they could try to stop her she made her escape.

It wasn't until she got down to the street that Gail realized she had no idea where she was going. She couldn't go home to face Chris' questions: Why are you home so early? What happened with the girls? How'd you manage to be gone an hour and come back smelling like a distillery? And if by some chance Dov was still there she couldn't face  _him_ , either. Not now; maybe not ever again.

Looking from side to side Gail pondered her choices for a moment then set off to the left because she just didn't feel  _right._  The bad pun started her giggling, and she briefly considered that maybe she was losing her mind. Everything hit her at once, Dov and Chris and the complete  _disaster_  that was her life, and she barely made it into an alley before loudly and painfully emptying the contents of her stomach. Stumbling away from the mess she'd made she leaned against the building and allowed herself to cry for the first time since the whole thing had started. Sobbed so hard her knees buckled and she slid to the ground; until her throat burned stronger than the taste of any vodka and the only thought left in her head was, like her, karma was a bitch.


	7. Chapter 7

The apartment was dark when Gail finally snuck in, shoes in hand and mostly sober. Once she'd picked herself up off the ground she'd made her way to a nearby diner, cleaned herself up then forced down some coffee and dry toast. Stared out the window at the passing traffic for hours, until her thoughts had looped back on themselves so many times she wasn't sure  _what_ she was thinking anymore. Until her need for the god-forsaken day to be over became greater than her need to dodge the boys and she'd called a cab to take her home.

Heading straight to the bathroom she took another shower; scrubbed her body raw in an attempt to get rid of the unclean feeling that had nothing to do with dirt and everything to do with not being comfortable in her own skin. She brushed her teeth and rinsed with mouthwash, careful to avoid her reflection in the mirror, then tip-toed into the bedroom and dropped the towel onto the floor to pull on one of Chris' shirts. As soon as her weight dipped the mattress he rolled over and she was enveloped his arms.

"Did you have fun with the girls?" Chris mumbled, half-asleep.

"As much fun as anyone can have with Nash and McNally," she replied automatically. It scared her how empty her voice was. No scorn. No sarcasm. No hurt.  _Nothing_.

"Mmmm."

Silence fell again and Gail closed her eyes. The room didn't spin – maybe the universe wasn't conspiring against her after all…

Chris nuzzled his face in her hair. The dampness waking him up he remembered, "Dov came by earlier…"

Gail wondered if it might be a test, admitting finally, "I know – I ran into him on my way out." On her way  _in_ she'd kept herself from looking towards his room, afraid she'd confront him if he were still there. "He didn't stay?"

Dov hadn't said anything but Chris assumed they'd crossed paths; they couldn't  _not_  have. That Gail hadn't covered it up made him feel better but he knew the feeling wouldn't last. "No – he just came by to get his game console and some other stuff…"

 _His game console._ Gail suppressed the sinking feeling in her stomach, fought to keep her tone even. "You told him everything was okay, right?"

Chris heard the unspoken warning and quickly assured her, "I did." That wasn't going to stop her from blaming him, though, he was sure.

" _Chris_ …" There was something he was leaving out and the lump in her throat told her she already knew what it was.  _God-damned game console._

"He's moving out." After today Chris knew better than to keep evading.

Gail squeezed her eyes shut; having 'known' did nothing to lessen the tightening in her chest and the breath hitched in her throat.

"Babe?" The non-reaction was almost worse than her blaming him, if only 'cause he kept waiting for the shoe to drop.

She tried to find something appropriately flip to say but couldn't get her brain to process anything beyond  _he's moving out._ Not three hours before she'd been thinking about how she could never face him again and now she just… Suddenly she was grateful for the breakdown in the alley; if she'd had any tears left they would've been making their way onto Chris' skin and she didn't think he'd buy that she was crying over losing the console. Taking a shaky breath she acknowledged, "It's probably for the best."

Chris placed a relieved kiss on her forehead, surprised they agreed.

* * *

Dov didn't show up in the Tac room the next morning, wasn't anywhere to be found in the precinct, and Gail knew he was avoiding her. Which only made her more determined to track him down and give him hell…

"Gail, can we…"

"Not now, Andy," she pre-empted with a 'zip-it' motion, passing the brunette in the hallway. Throwing open the door to the guys' locker room she wasn't at all surprised to see a uniformed Dov sitting on the bench while a handful of others rushed around him in various states of undress.

"Wrong room, Peck," Tyler told her as the guys quickly covered themselves with whatever was convenient.

Dov's head shot up to see her standing in the entrance, hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. He should've known better than to think she would consider this place off limits; he didn't think she knew the meaning of 'off limits.' Then again if  _he'd_  known the meaning he wouldn't be in this mess.

"Get out," she told the room evenly, gaze locked onto Dov's.

"Uh… you get out."

"So help me, Jackson, if you're still here in five seconds…" Gail let the threat hang idle; whatever they imagined would be much worse than anything she could come up with.

Dov stood up as the rest scattered, either out into the hallway or back into the showers. "I see you have your mother's talent for making people flee." Hell hath no fury like a Peck…

"This isn't funny," she hissed, stalking up to him.

"I'm not laughing." And he wasn't. Hadn't since that night, actually.

The resignation in his tone deflated Gail's anger like a pin to a balloon. "What the hell, Dov? How could you let me find out from Chris?"

Did it make a difference? "I wanted to tell you, okay? But I couldn't."

Gail realized that's what he'd been about to tell her the night before, reminded herself that him moving out was supposed to be for the best. "Where are you going to go?"

"I've got a place." He wasn't surprised she didn't try to talk him out of it; disappointed maybe, but not surprised. Aside from being pissed off at not being told directly she was probably relieved.

She must have been feeling particularly masochistic because she had to ask, "With Sue?"

Dov couldn't face her, it felt like cheating even though it shouldn't, so he turned to rearrange things in his locker. "Does it matter?"

It shouldn't, but it did. God, she wished it didn't. "You've only been dating her like a month…"

"Two," he corrected, "And it wasn't even that long before you moved in with Chris."

It was an exaggeration, but even if it wasn't there had been extenuating circumstances. "This has nothing to do with me and Chris…"

Dov slammed the shaving cream down on the shelf and spun to face her. "This has  _everything_  to do with you and Chris and  _you know it_."

She did know it, and it was tearing her apart. "Dov…"

"I can't live there anymore, Gail." Running a hand through his hair he bit off, "Hell, I barely live there now…"

Gail put a hand on his arm before she could stop herself.  _So much for self-control._ "It's gonna be fine," she promised, "Chris is gonna let it go and things'll go back…"

"Go back to what? Huh?" Dov shook her hand off. "Playing video games because it's the closest I can get to you? Watching you go to bed with him every night?" Chris may have screwed up but it didn't change anything.

She had no response for that; if their positions were reversed she'd probably feel the same.  _Knew_ she'd feel the same. She dropped to the bench, suddenly exhausted. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Dov's brow furrowed. "I did, remember?" That's what had started this whole thing. And now there was no going back, hard as he tried.

The confusion on his face had Gail rolling her eyes. " _Last year,_  Dov. Why didn't you say anything  _then_?"

 _Damn Traci._  "Uh… you hated me, remember?"

"I hated  _everyone_ ," she pointed out huffily. "It was my  _thing_ …" It was supposed to  _still_  be her thing but lately she just couldn't seem to find the motivation.

"You didn't hate Chris…" Dov could still remember the knot in his stomach when he'd found out how much she  _didn't_  hate him.

She kinda had but that was another issue altogether. "And after we'd broken up?"

Was she just trying to torture him, or what? "Bro Code – you don't go after your friend's girl or his exes."  _That_ , and she'd still hated him.

Gail raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Sensing the disbelief (judgment?) he defended, "It was just a crush then..." It wasn't until Chris had gotten hurt, until she'd started spending all her time at their apartment, until he'd gotten to know the  _real_ her, that it became more. It wasn't until he was high on pain killers, fresh off a day of 'my significant other is better than yours,' motivated by her 'tell her how you feel about her' that the secret had become more than he could bear.

Thanks to his confession in the cruiser Gail didn't need to ask  _what_ it was now. Still, the dejected way he'd said it left her breathless.

Dov sighed into the silence. "You know, after that thing at the meth house I actually thought…" He thought better of telling her  _what_  he'd thought the last time she'd stormed in there like she had every right. "I made this pact with Chris – we'd go after what we wanted, no matter what. He was talking about jobs, I was talking about you." Avoiding her gaze he sat next to her. "And then I realized you were just busting my balls because that's what you do best."

And that's what she'd told herself: she hadn't been scared, she'd been  _mad_. Mad that he'd put their lives at risk because he hadn't felt good enough when she'd spent the month prior (in her own round-about ass-backwards way) trying to tell him he  _was_. But she hadn't known then that she was as much to blame for the way he felt as his probation was, and now she couldn't ignore it; couldn't ignore that her anger had just been covering up something far more dangerous. "That's not all it was, Dov."

She was looking at him sadly, guiltily, and he wished she'd just stop. "I don't want your pity, okay? This is hard enough without you looking at me like some stray that followed you home." And they all knew how she felt about strays…

Here she was feeling as blatantly obvious as a flashing marquis sign and he was completely oblivious. "You really  _are_  an idiot, you know?" she huffed, standing up so she could keep some semblance of control over the conversation. "Chris didn't go all DEFCON 1 because there was an enemy at the gates – he did it because the Trojan horse was already in the city!"

"Okay – what?" He was pretty sure the ancient Greeks didn't have the DEFCON ratings system…

"Chris already knew you had feelings for me!" He'd said as much that night in the car, though Gail wasn't sure just how much Dov remembered. "Apparently everyone knew  _but_ me…"

If he weren't so busy trying to muddle through the mixed metaphor Dov would have pointed out that, if anything, it made  _her_  the idiot. When understanding finally hit he breathed, "Why are you telling me this?"

Shaking her head Gail admitted painfully, "I don't know." She wanted him to know he wasn't delusional, at least.

"Did you think it would make it easier?" He stood up and walked away because the frustration made him want to shake her. "'Cause it doesn't…" Somehow it made it infinitely worse.

The bitterness in his tone made her cringe. "No! I just…"

"Thought it would make me change my mind?" It was more statement than question, and Dov wasn't sure she even  _realized_  she was trying to manipulate him.

The finishing her sentences thing was getting really annoying, especially since he'd been right both times. Throwing her hands in the air she shouted, "Yes!"

Dov shook his head in disbelief. "So you just want things to stay the same, no matter what it does to me?"

No. Yes. _Maybe_. On some level Gail knew how deep this went for him but she just wasn't ready to let it go. If she  _could_  let it go she wouldn't be standing there.

Seeing the shame on her face he hissed, "I knew you were selfish but that's just…" There weren't even any words to describe what it was.

Gail couldn't deny it; she'd never claimed to be selfless. "What do you want me to do, Dov? Chris is my boyfriend; he's  _your_  best friend…"

She knew damn well what he wanted, and he hated that she could pretend he even had a choice. "It doesn't matter what I want; you've already decided what  _you_ want!"

She hadn't; not at all. What she  _really_ wanted was to go back to blissful ignorance, where Dov was just her unwilling roommate and she'd never had to question her loyalty to Chris. Now  _everything_  was a question and every answer she came up with meant  _someone_  getting hurt.

It killed him that she didn't argue, didn't even feign being  _torn_. "You need to let me move on," he sighed, picking up his bag and walking past her.

"Can you?" Gail whispered without turning. She shouldn't be asking, didn't have the right to not want him to, but the thought of it happening made her feel like she was drowning again.

Dov stopped in the doorway to stare at her back. He didn't  _know_  that he could, but if she was staying where she was then he sure as hell was going to try. He couldn't bring himself to tell her that, though, to hurt her the way she'd hurt him, so he just left.


	8. Chapter 8

Gail pulled herself together and went to parade. If she'd skipped Frank would have let it go, she was sure, but she was Gail god-damned Peck and she refused to be taken out of commission by boy troubles, of all things. Even if all she  _wanted_  to do was find a hole to hide in…

She ignored all the curious stares she was getting – storming into and clearing the guys' locker room wasn't exactly conducive to keeping a low profile – and cursed herself, not for the first time, for letting her emotions get the better of her. When the briefing wrapped up she muttered a quick 'bye' to Chris and escaped out into the fresh air. Turning her face to the sky, eyes closed, she prayed she was partnered with Oliver or Noelle; she didn't think she could handle it being anyone else.

Traci went to stand next to the blonde, careful not to startle her. "1513."

Gail reluctantly opened her eyes. "You again?" Making a 'woo' gesture with her finger she monotoned, "Lucky me."

The words lacked the usual disdain but Traci still wouldn't tell her she'd switched with Noelle; better to have Gail think she had no choice. "I'll drive?"

"Whatever." Gail moved to the cruiser on autopilot and climbed in.

Traci started the car and headed to their assigned zone. "Gail, I…"

"Forget about it," Gail advised evenly. It was the least of her problems at the moment. Undoubtedly Chris would hear about what happened and she needed to figure out how she would explain it away. Or if she even cared to.

"No." The surprised look on the blonde's face made Traci think it was the first time she'd heard the word. That, or she'd expected diffidence. "I don't want you to think I meant for any of last night to happen. I had no idea how serious things were…"

Well, that made two of them. Turning her attention out the window Gail allowed, "I shouldn't have taken it out on you guys." It wasn't Traci's fault her life was fubar; she'd just let her know how fubar it  _really_ was. "Next time I'll go for the tonic…"

Traci knew it was Gail's form of an apology but that wasn't what she'd been fishing for. Going another route she explained, "Andy told me about Dov's reaction to the medication that day – I figured he told you he has feelings for you and that's why things have been awkward…" It wasn't  _all_  she figured but bringing up Gail's feelings on the matter would be counter-productive.

Gail scoffed. "When have you ever known that boy to do anything halfway?" It wasn't even the first time his tendency to be all gung-ho about everything had rocked her world. And  _not_  in the good way.

 _So far so good_. Hoping she wouldn't be able to resist explaining Traci feigned shock. "He kissed you?"

"No." If only it had been that simple;  _that_  she could have dealt with. With a swift knee to the groin.

Traci sighed into the growing silence. "Why is trying to help you like pulling teeth?"

Because the very notion of  _needing_ help, like she was some charity case to be pitied or coddled, went against every fiber of Gail's being. But she didn't have the energy to fight anymore, either. "He basically said he wished he was Chris, okay?" Only with more words; sweet, flowery, delusional words that she couldn't seem to get out of her head. "And apparently I need to invest in some acting classes because Chris figured it out, too."

Well, that explained why Chris had been playing buffer since, and it only solidified Traci's suspicion that Gail had feelings for Dov, too. Otherwise Chris wouldn't have  _had_  to keep them apart – Gail would have done it herself. And none-too-nicely, either. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No more than I did yesterday…" Even less, actually.

Traci refused to take the hint. Now that she knew what she was dealing with (and there was no alcohol involved) hopefully it would go better. "You ever hear the saying 'No man is an island'?"

Glancing at her Gail raised a pointed eyebrow. "Ever hear the saying 'Poke the bear, lose an arm'?" It may not have been an actual saying but at least  _it_  applied. She wasn't isolated; she was just… being self-reliant.

There was no anger in the blonde's tone so Traci seriously doubted she had anything to worry about. Not that she  _would_  have worried; Gail was all bluster and no bite when it came to her (loosely-termed) friends. "Are you okay?"

Hell no; but for the moment she was emotionally numb which was pretty good, considering. "Dov's moving out. Told Chris last night…" Gail told herself the others would find out anyway so it was in no way an admission that she needed someone to talk to.

 _Ouch._ "What are you going to do?"

Gail shrugged, her gaze still on the passing scenery. "Turn his bedroom into an office."

And just when Traci thought she was getting somewhere. "Gail…"

"Yeah – you're right." Neither of them would use an office. "A home gym, then…"

"Gail!" Traci would laugh if she couldn't see right through the air of indifference.

Gail didn't want to admit she'd tried to change his mind; it wasn't her proudest moment, though she hadn't yet decided whether it was because she'd failed or because she'd had the gall to try in the first place. "It's none of my business…"

Traci scoffed. "When has that ever stopped you before?" It wasn't like Gail to just roll over without putting up a fight; her stubbornness was as predictable as it was infuriating.

"What do you expect me to do, Traci?" Gail sighed, finally turning to her partner. "I'm with Chris."

Careful to keep her tone judgment-free Traci suggested, "Shouldn't that be 'I love Chris'?"

"I  _do_  love Chris." Shaking her head she added, "I just…"

"Love Dov, too," Traci finished for her.

Narrowing her eyes Gail corrected shortly, "Don't know if it's the same as it was." Too much had happened for her to be sure of anything anymore.

That didn't negate Traci's point, though Gail seemed to think it did. " _Because_  you love Dov, too…"

Gail dropped her head back against the seat, exhausted. "You know, it's amazing how  _un_ helpful these little chats with you are."

The chances of her admitting it were slim to none but Traci had to try: "Unhelpful because I'm forcing you to acknowledge the possibility or unhelpful because you already  _know_  you love Dov?"

Either way Gail was screwed so she didn't bother answering the question. "Have I mentioned how much I hate you today?"

"How much you hate me today or mentioned  _today_  how much you hate me?" Traci couldn't help herself – it wasn't often someone got to inflict the same torture on Gail as she did them.

Gail chuckled despite herself. "You suck, Nash."

"Hey – it's not my fault your love life is more complicated than Andy's…" Traci defended with a smile.

Shaking her head at the comparison Gail blithely informed her, "Okay, now I really  _do_  hate you…"

* * *

"Samuels! It's been so long!" Gail greeted with feigned enthusiasm as she approached the restaurant's patio. Dropping the act she added evenly, "Walk with me."

Aaron's smile faded when he placed her face, and the tone told him it wasn't an invitation but an order. "Uh… I'll be right back," he told his partner, ignoring his curious glance.

As soon as they were out of earshot Gail wasted no time, confirming, "You know who I am?"

"Yeah." Diaz' girlfriend, goddaughter to the Chief of Police, daughter to Division 15's Superintendent. Also, the reason Aaron had joined mounted training instead of going to Chris directly; her reputation at the Academy said she wasn't someone to cross lightly so he'd chosen not to cross paths with her at all. And yet here he was, taking a (not so) casual stroll with her…

"Good." She'd seen the recognition on his face but had to make sure – intimidation didn't work nearly as well when you had to recite your credentials first. "Then I'll get to the point: you took advantage of Chris' good nature; got him to do something he normally wouldn't even consider. Manipulated him to save your worthless hide…" Raising an eyebrow at him she supplied, "I think you can imagine I'm not too thrilled about it."

Aaron swallowed hard but nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Here's the thing…" Gail kept her voice level, unthreatening. "I wasn't around when things first went down…"

She stopped and Aaron took it as his cue to stop, too. He lowered his gaze when she turned to him with piercing eyes.

Gail snapped her fingers in his face to get him to look at her. "I'm here  _now_ , Samuels, and I'm not above being a petty bitch when someone pisses me off." Dropping her voice to a dangerous whisper she warned, "Aaron… messing with my boyfriend  _really_  pisses me off. So believe me when I tell you that if this comes back on him  _in any way_  I will throw you under the bus so fast you won't see the headlights bearing down on you…"

He  _did_  believe her, and he had no doubt she could, too.

"Do we understand each other?" The panic in his eyes told her he understood damn well but forcing them to say it aloud always cemented just how screwed they really were. That, and it was doubly satisfying for her.

"Yeah," Aaron forced out.

Gail nodded. "Good." Hooking her arm in his she started back to his table, advising helpfully, "Try not to look so nauseous – your partner is already suspicious."

Aaron covered up the queasy feeling with a tight smile.

When they reached their destination Gail patted his arm, pleased with the flinch it produced. "Glad we could catch up; you two have a good day now…" Tipping her hat at Samuels' partner she made her way back to the squad where Traci was waiting.

Traci shook her head as Gail approached wearing a grin that would put the Cheshire cat to shame. Once the blonde got in she started the engine and pulled into the street.

"I feel so much better," Gail shared while tossing her hat onto the dash. She felt like Gail god-damned Peck again…

"I can see that," Traci laughed. "You going to tell me  _why_ I spent my lunch break tracking down the 'greasy scumbag'?"

Gail shrugged. "We needed to have a little chat." And she'd needed a little pick-me-up.

Was that what they were calling it these days? "Looked like you were putting the fear of God into the poor boy…"

"Fear of  _Peck_ ," Gail corrected happily. She would make a joke about it being the same difference but with the way her week was going she'd probably be struck by lightning… "And he's hardly a 'poor boy.' More like an irresponsible man-child who won't hesitate to use the weak-willed to clean up his messes."

Traci didn't know enough to disagree. She wanted to know, though… "I'm assuming this has to do with what I.A. wanted?"

Gail's grin faded. "Chris did something stupid – I'm just making sure it doesn't come back to bite him on the ass." Chewing her lip she stared out the windshield without seeing. "You know, if he were anyone else I'd have gotten rid of him faster than you could say 'Pecks don't date criminals.'"

"You would have broken up with him over it?" Okay, now Traci was really curious. Although Gail's prerequisites for a break-up were generally pretty low...

" _No_ ,  _Traci_ ," Gail said sarcastically, "I would have had him offed…"

Traci rolled her eyes; Gail evidently wasn't going to tell her what 'crime' he'd committed. "So why didn't you?"

"We've already had our break; I didn't want to make a decision in the heat of the moment that I'd regret." And Gail was too proud to go against her own rule.

"You know I find that rule stupid, right?" Traci reminded her. "If two people love each other something like that shouldn't keep them apart…"

"If they need more than one break it's obviously  _not_  the rule that's keeping them apart…" Gail pointed out derisively.

Arguing about it wouldn't get Traci anywhere – Gail had a somewhat (okay,  _very_ ) jaded view of the world in general and people in specific. "Why didn't you just take some time to think about it?"

Gail let out a bitter laugh. "We were in the middle of an argument; I couldn't very well say 'Let me figure out if I'm in love with your best friend and I'll get back to you…'"

It was the closest she'd come to an admission and right then Traci knew why she  _hadn't_ done it. "Can I tell you something? From experience?"

"I'm not sure your unwed teenage pregnancy drama can help me…" She wasn't sure anything could.

" _Gail_ …" Sometimes Traci wondered why she even bothered trying.

Gail closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then reopened them. "Sorry – impart your hard-earned wisdom, Mama Nash."

Parking the cruiser Traci gave Gail her full attention. "Staying with someone because you think you  _should_ , or because you think  _not_ doing it makes you a bad person, never works out."

"I don't know that I  _don't_  want to be with him." Just because she felt that way now didn't mean it would stay that way.

"Or maybe you refuse to acknowledge you don't because you don't want to hurt him," Traci suggested quietly. "Same way I didn't want to hurt Dex and Leo, or Andy Luke…" She didn't think she needed to remind Gail how those relationships had turned out.

"Jeez, Trace," Gail muttered sarcastically, avoiding her gaze, "I'm beginning to think you're not an impartial adviser…"

Traci  _did_  have an opinion on who was better suited but it didn't change the situation. "I've been down this road, Gail. Trust me – you're not doing anyone any favors if you're staying for the wrong reasons."

Gail moved to run a hand through her hair before remembering it was in a ponytail. Dropping it back to her lap she sighed, "Or maybe Dov moving out is what we need to get things back to normal…"

If she didn't work with him – have to see him practically every day and consider 'what if' – then Traci would concede that maybe it  _would_  be; as it was she knew better. She  _also_  knew that Gail was too hard-headed (or too far deep in denial) to listen. The best that Traci could hope for now was that the blonde wouldn't end up like Andy, regretting not realizing it herself sooner...


	9. Chapter 9

Gail felt out of place as she wandered into the Penny, like it had been months since she'd last been. She'd already gone to the shooting range (gunfire just wasn't as satisfying without a moving target) and the gym (the punching bag got more hits in than she did – she blamed it on a phantom hangover) so here she was in a pub with no interest in drinking but every interest in not going home. It was sad how few options she had… "Hey, Liam."

"If it isn't the littlest Peck…" he greeted with a smile, "I was beginning to think you'd defected to another division…"

Well, that was an option Gail hadn't considered. Before she  _could_  she deadpanned, "And give up my cushy position at the 15? Ten more arrests and I get cardboard walls for my cubicle…"

Liam shook his head – she obviously wasn't going to share  _why_ she'd been conspicuously absent for weeks – but had to laugh anyway. "Can I get you something or are you just here to pick up?"

"Pick up?" She was thinking Chris had ordered take-out until Liam pointed off to the side. Following his gesture she realized the universe really did hate her.

"I thought he called you to come get him…" Liam explained, seeing her confusion.

"No." Even if she hadn't turned her cell off as soon as shift ended she doubted she'd have been his first call. Or second through fourth. She told herself the thought didn't bother her. "How many has he had?"

"Enough." Liam took Dov's keys from beneath the bar and held them out to her.

Gail just stared at them, lost in internal debate, then finally took them with a sighed, "Can I get a Coke & Grenadine?" The mere thought of alcohol was making her nauseous. Or maybe she was feeling sick because she'd just taken responsibility for the very thing she'd been trying to avoid…

Liam raised an eyebrow at her choice; he didn't need to be a bartender slash unlicensed therapist (or a cop) to know something was going on with her. The possibility that she was pregnant crossed his mind but it really wasn't any of his business so he said nothing.

While he made her drink Gail toyed with the keys – specifically the one she didn't recognize – a jealous knot in her stomach. "Thanks," she muttered when he slid the glass across the bar.

"Let me know if you need any help with him," Liam offered before heading off to serve another customer.

Gail opened her mouth to tell him to call Dov a cab but he was already gone. Heaving a frustrated sigh she tried to figure out the best approach after the way they'd left things; 'hi' just didn't seem to cut it. 'Of all the gin joints…' was more fitting but it would be his line, not hers… Coming up with nothing she walked over and jangled the keys to get his attention.

Dov looked up to find the last person he wanted to see standing over him. She was also the  _only_  person he wanted to see. Funny how that worked out…

The pain and anger in his eyes made Gail's chest hurt and she had to force a teasing smile. "You know, if I have to keep confiscating your things I really am going to start feeling like your mother..."

"I never asked you to be my keeper," he pointed out shortly. He'd never asked her for  _anything_ ; not that she would have given it to him if he had… "What are you doing here?"

 _Being_ _mocked_ _by_ _fate._ "I was going to ask you the same thing – you're supposed to be at home with Chris, packing up the rest of your stuff." It was why she  _wasn_ _'_ _t_.

Dov let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah – that was more your boyfriend's idea than mine." Just because he'd made the decision to move out didn't mean he was  _ready_  to. Chris on the other hand had had the move planned practically before Dov had said the words.

Gail ran a guilty hand through her hair; she could make Chris play nice but she couldn't change the way he felt any more than she could change how  _she_ felt. "Does he know where you are?"

"Nope." Dov picked his cell up off the table and clumsily waved it around. "Beauty of the ignore button…" Two hours, five 'missed' calls from Chris, two from Sue. He suspected if  _she_ _'_ _d_ called he would have answered. He  _knew_  it made him pathetic.

If Chris didn't know where Dov was then he probably assumed they were together, which meant Gail had a ton of messages waiting for her, too. And a ton of explaining to do; the list just kept growing.  _One_ _awkward_ _conversation_ _at_ _a_ _time_ _…_ "You're drunk."

She went to take his beer away but he snatched it out of her reach. "They teach you those observational skills at the Academy?" he bit off, glaring up at her. "Next you'll be telling me you think you know  _why_ I'm drunk…"

Gail flinched at the harshness of his tone. No sweet, flowery words here… "Dov…"

"Are you gonna sit or are you too  _awesome_  to slum it with the commoners?" He wanted her to bitch back so he could hold on to the anger he felt slipping away. He never could stay mad at her, no matter how much she deserved it. And right now she definitely deserved it.

Drunken lashing out wasn't as much fun when you were on the  _receiving_  end of it. Gail made a mental note to apologize ( _really_  apologize) to Traci and Andy when she saw them. Or maybe she could get away with just buying them doughnuts. "Actually, I was thinking we should go burn off some of that alcohol…" And then get him home.  _Which_ home she wasn't sure yet.

What was left of the anger fled and Dov quirked a suggestive eyebrow. "What exactly did you have in mind, Officer Peck?"

Feeling her cheeks heat Gail quickly clarified, "I meant a walk around the block, Dov…" She'd never seen that particular look on his face before; if her heart was beating a little bit faster it was just a coincidence.

Dov shrugged and took a swig of his beer. Her boyfriend probably wouldn't have approved, anyway.

 _Or_ _not._ "Look – I get that you're mad at me, okay? And you have every right to be…" Sliding into the booth next to him she sighed, "But this isn't the answer…" He got himself into enough trouble without adding drunk and/or drugged to the mix.

"If you've got  _the_  answer I'd love to hear it," he invited facetiously. "'Cause I've got an amazing girlfriend waiting for me at 'home' and yet all I can think about is the shiny carrot you so cruelly dangled in front of me."

She wasn't sure if the shiny carrot was  _her_  or her feelings for him; the 'cruelly' and 'dangled' parts were pretty self-explanatory though. And regretfully accurate. "You don't even like carrots…" she reminded him softly, as though it would change something.

Dov glared at her for trying to use logic when he was obviously drunk and logic had nothing to do with anything. "I like  _this_  carrot." It was his metaphor and he was sticking to it. "But the shiny carrot prefers the stupid potato so I hope they're both tossed into a pot for stew."

Well that answered  _that_  question, if a tad morbidly. "Are you a horse in this scenario? Or another vegetable?"

"Huh?" He hadn't thought that far ahead.

Gail shrugged. "Well, if I'm going to continue your little metaphor I need to know the parameters…"

And now she was patronizing him… "Forget the stupid carrot!" Dov huffed indignantly.

"I thought the potato was stupid?" she marveled without missing a beat. Apparently the conversation was going too fast for him to keep up, the confusion on his face making it really hard for her not to laugh.

Seeing her lips twitch Dov turned to glower into his beer. He knew expressing emotion was a foreign (and dirty) concept to her but the least she could do was not mock him for it.

As amusing as his intoxicated ramblings were (and they were) the last thing Gail wanted was to hurt him. More. "Dov, listen to me…" When he didn't she put a hand on his arm.

He shifted his gaze from the mug to her hand to her (now) solemn face. "What?"

"One – I may be shiny but I'm no carrot; carrots are good for you. I'm more like one of those little plastic toys kids swallow because they're too stupid to know better." Realizing she was still touching him Gail lifted the hand to show him two fingers. "Two – you'd have to be another vegetable 'cause you being a horse would just be disturbing. I'm going to say a mushroom…" It wasn't really a vegetable but he was probably too far gone to notice, anyway.

Dov's lips fell into an offended pout. "'Cause of the hair?" Everyone was always ragging on his hair…

More 'cause he'd grown on her like fungus but Gail nodded anyway. "And three…" Taking a deep breath she admitted, "It's not as simple as 'preferring' one over the other, Dov. And this isn't easy for me, either; I actually confided in Traci today."

"Really?" Either she was lying (badly) or she didn't believe it herself. If it  _was_  true it made him feel a little better. Maybe he wasn't in love with a Borg after all…

"Not a torture device in sight," Gail confirmed with a self-loathing sigh, then added, "Well, aside from her incessant nagging…" Leo was either the luckiest kid on the planet or the most screwed.

What Dov wouldn't give to have been a fly on the dash of that cruiser… "I think Oliver's ready to kill me," he shared with a smile. "Says he couldn't get Sam  _to_ talk and now he can't get me to shut up…"

"I wonder what  _that_  feels like…" Her tone was teasing but she was actually glad he had someone to talk to; Chris obviously wasn't an option. Focusing on the liquid in her glass she revealed, "You really messed up my life that night, you know?"

"I think it's only fair…" Dov moved the hair that had fallen so he could see her face again, waiting until she met his eyes. "You've been messing my life up since I met you…" Whether it was taking credit for his work or taking  _over_  everything else.

There was no resentment in his tone – he was just stating a fact – and yet the words cut like a knife. Holding his gaze she breathed, "Dov…"

He may have been drunk but Dov knew if she kept looking at him like that he was going to do a hell of a lot more than profess his love. "Maybe we should take that walk…"

Gail blinked at the sudden change, though she wouldn't examine if it was out of surprise or disappointment. When he stood she did the same, putting out a hand out to steady him. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He'd been tempted to say no – knew she'd help – but couldn't. Partly because he wasn't  _that_  drunk and partly because he was afraid of what would happen if she kept touching him.

A walk suddenly seemed like the worst idea Gail had ever had. Taking a deep breath she downed the rest of his beer and followed him out.

* * *

"And  _once_ _again_  the student kicks the teacher's  _ass_." Gail did an awkward little dance, finishing it off with a pronounced "Suck it, Epstein!"

Wanting to avoid the temptation of a stroll down darkened streets Dov had suggested going to the arcade instead; he'd just spent the better part of an hour 'getting his ass kicked' but didn't regret it in the least. "You're not a very gracious winner,  _Peck_ …" Her eyes were shining and she was grinning from ear to ear – he'd clearly created a monster.

Oh, she wasn't done yet. "Hang on…" Taking out an imaginary phone Gail put it to her ear, nodded, then made to hand it to him. "It's your humiliation calling…" She raised a pert eyebrow. "…to tell you it is  _complete._ "

Dov took hold of her wrist and, giving her every chance to resist, slowly pulled her into him. Staring into her widened eyes he breathed, "You know I'm drunk, right?" He wasn't really – not anymore – but she didn't know that.

He was either justifying his poor performance or warning her he had no restraint; either way Gail refused to be the first to back down. "Newsflash, Dov…" She stood on her tip-toes to whisper in his ear, " _You_ _usually_ _play_ _like_ _you_ _'_ _re_ _drunk_ _…_ "

His fingers involuntarily tightened around her wrist, the waft of vanilla perfume combined with the tease of warm air against his skin making it damn near impossible for him  _not_  to bury his face in her neck. If only to see if she tasted as good as she smelled…

Hearing ( _feeling_ ) his sharp intake of breath Gail realized not only had she gone from 'ungracious' to 'unfair' but she was also not-so-carefully straddling the line between 'not cheating' and 'cheating.' She pulled back reluctantly, her mouth suddenly dry.

Dov watched her tongue dart out to swipe her bottom lip and quickly quashed the impulse to replace it with his own. Swallowing hard he released her hand and took a step backwards. "You hungry?" It was a rhetorical question – she was always hungry.

Gail just nodded, thankful he had more self-control than she gave him credit for (and more than she appeared to have at the moment). Just one more thing to apologize to the girls for – all of a sudden it didn't seem so black and white. God, she hated being wrong.

They walked to the snack counter in silence. Studying the wall menus he offered, "What do you want?"

If that wasn't a loaded question Gail didn't know what was. She didn't really have an answer, though that didn't stop the traitorous voice in her head from informing her that, raging hormones aside, the last hour was the most fun she'd had in weeks; that she was  _comfortable_  when she'd been beginning to forget what comfortable even felt like.

"Gail?" She was staring at the menus but the faraway look in her eyes told Dov she wasn't examining her food choices.

Shaking her head to clear it Gail chose randomly. "The #4 with an extra hot dog," she told him, keeping her hands firmly in her pockets in case her body decided to betray her, too. It was a distinct possibility judging by the need to move closer she was suppressing.

Dov placed their order, paid, and they moved to the side to wait. He tried not to feel like  _this_ , them together, was how it was supposed to be; he knew Chris probably felt the same when he was with her. And Chris, unlike him, actually had a right to.

Gail gave an inward sigh of relief when they finally got their food and made their way to a table. As soon as Dov placed her share in front of her she dug in. With everything that was going on lately she'd lost her usual appetite – now she was ravenous.

"You eat like a pig," Dov told her, not for the first time. By the way she scarfed everything down you'd swear she'd starved the first twenty years of her life.

Tilting her head towards the game zone Gail deliberately took a huge bite of food before countering, "You play like a noob…" Once she'd swallowed she waved the remainder of the hot dog at him. "At least I can choose to have manners – you can't choose to  _not_  be my bitch at video games…"

Dov crumpled up a napkin and tossed it at her forehead in retaliation. "Can you  _choose_  to be modest?"

"I could…" Plucking the napkin out of her fries she promptly tossed it back at him. "But if I were modest I'd have no faults and then I'd have no reason  _to_  be modest. It's a vicious cycle…" She gave him a 'what can you do?' shrug and turned back to her hot dog.

It was a mystery how she could come off as completely arrogant and yet he found it strangely charming. He watched her eat for a bit before breaking the silence. "Would you have said yes?"

Gail blinked, stopping with a fry halfway to her mouth. "Dov, I'm not ready to get married. To anyone." She wasn't really the marrying type.

Rolling his eyes he adopted the tone she'd used with him that morning. " _Last_ _year,_ Gail. Would you have said yes if I'd asked you  _then_?" It had been bothering him all day and he had to know.

 _Oh._ Went to show where her mind was at… She considered lying but couldn't decide if it would make things better or worse, finally admitting, "No. I wouldn't have moved in, though."

Dov had suspected it but it was like a shot to the gut all the same. "Would you change it?" She wouldn't have feelings for him now if she hadn't.

Gail had thought about it, the 'what if's:  _if_  he'd asked,  _if_  Chris hadn't been stabbed,  _if_  she'd been the teensiest bit self-aware… Any of the above and she would have stayed the hell away and they wouldn't be in this mess. But now… "Regrets are for losers."

He didn't know if that was actually one of the unrealistic maxims in 'The World According to Gail' or her way of saying 'no' without actually saying it. For all she talked she never really said much. Not outright, anyway.

When he didn't respond Gail started picking at her food, appetite lost. "Would  _you_?"

"I don't know." It wasn't like her having feelings for him was getting him anywhere, and if she hadn't moved in he probably wouldn't be in the position he was now. At the very least he'd be able to look at his girlfriend without wishing she was someone else. Although if he hadn't been so hell-bent on impressing her he may not have been in that meth lab in the first place so he wouldn't even  _have_  a girlfriend… It wasn't a vicious cycle but just thinking about it was enough to make his head hurt.

Gail took a drink to wet her dry mouth. "Still… you shouldn't have to move out…"

"Drop the noble act, Gail; it doesn't suit you." His tone wasn't harsh; he was only letting her know he wasn't buying it. "You just don't want me living with Sue…"

She narrowed her eyes at the accusation before accepting that he was at least partly right. "I have other reasons…" None of those were particularly noble either, though. She really was a horrible person.

Dov read between the lines, volunteering softly, "I miss you, too." He would have taken her hand but didn't have pain meds for an excuse this time.

The sincerity made Gail's chest tighten, those four words far more intimate than she was capable of dealing with at the moment. Even if he wasn't wrong. "Finish eating, Dov," she advised evenly before cocking a condescending eyebrow. "Maybe I'll give you a chance to reclaim your dignity…"

This time he tossed a fry.


	10. Chapter 10

Pushing through the arcade's exit Dov held it open for Gail to follow.

She paused in the doorway to take a deep breath, making a show of buttoning up her jacket before joining him. "So I guess I'll just drop you at the Barbie dream house and you can go get your car tomorrow…"

Her tone told him it was the last thing she wanted to do. He wasn't too keen on the idea, either… "I'm fine to drive, Gail."

"That's what they all say," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. As much as she wanted to believe him she couldn't; not with Samuels still fresh in her mind. Brownie points for trying to let her off the hook, though.

"Gail…" He pulled her out of the way of some kids that were going in. "It's been hours and we ate."

That didn't mean anything – she had no idea how much he'd had to drink to begin with and not an hour before he'd said he was drunk. She wasn't going to chance him wrapping his car around  _something_  just because the thought of handing him off to his girlfriend made her want to tase someone. "Prove it; take the test."

He started to laugh before realizing she  _wasn_ _'_ _t_. "You're serious?"

Patting herself down Gail deadpanned, "I left the breathalyzer in my other jeans, so yeah. You can skip the HGN." She was more worried about his reflexes – his playing hadn't gotten any better.

Not even a crack of a smile; she'd switched into 'Officer Hard-Ass' mode and Dov knew there was no getting out of it. Shaking his head he held out his arms and lifted his foot up into an exaggerated Kung-Fu stance. "I'm  _not_  counting…"

Gail allowed his little attempt at physical rebellion (mostly because the only thing it accomplished was making him look like an idiot) but rewarded his lack of cooperation with a patronizingly sympathetic, "Thirty too high for you?"

Dov rotated his hand so he could waggle his finger in her direction.

" _Charming_ …" When the thirty seconds were up she instructed, "Finger-to-nose."

People were beginning to stare but she didn't seem to mind. "Are you actually concerned or is this your sick form of revenge?"

"Yes." The two weren't mutually exclusive… "Touch your toes."

His hands were halfway to his feet before he caught on and shot her a dirty look. " _Gail_ …"

"I didn't say 'Simon says,'" she defended with a laugh. At least he was sober enough to realize it wasn't part of the test… "Do I need to make you walk the line?"

"You've been watching me walk for the last two hours…" Concerned or not, she sure was enjoying herself at his expense. Not that that was anything new…

"I wasn't paying attention to your feet, Dov…" Before he could read anything into it she took her keys from her bag and handed them to him. "Here – if you don't get us killed on the way back…"

Dov caught her hand, trapping the keys between their palms. He needed to touch her, if only for a few seconds.

Gail trailed off to chew her bottom lip, her gaze shifting from his eyes to their joined hands and back again. "We should go." It was like  _that_  night; same hesitation, same temptation. Except this time she actually followed through.

Sighing, Dov let her hand slip away and trudged after her to the car. He opened her door in silence before getting into the driver's seat.

"This can't happen again," she told him as soon as he got in. For  _so_  many reasons, not the least of which she was even more torn than before. Compared with the hot mess that was her relationship with Chris, being with Dov was  _easy_. And it was getting harder to convince herself it was  _just_  an illusion.

Part of Dov had expected it but that didn't mean he'd just  _accept_  it. "Nothing  _happened_ , Gail…"

"It was practically a date, Dov," she scoffed guiltily as he started the car and pulled into the street. "And not even a  _real_ date – a tween date complete with arcade games and junk food. The only thing missing was us getting drunk in the park first off a bottle of JD I stole from my mother…"

Dov could totally picture a teenaged Gail sitting on the back of a park bench with her feet on its seat, drinking straight from the bottle. "Your mom strikes me as more the Southern Comfort type…" The look on her face told him she wasn't impressed with his attempt at levity. "We were having fun, Gail; we didn't  _do_  anything wrong."

Gail thought ( _knew_ ) the people they were  _actually_ dating would disagree, and that he was hiding behind the same logic she had. "Can you say you didn't want to kiss me?" She wouldn't have brought it up at all – avoidance was her best friend, after all – but she needed to make him see  _why_ that logic didn't work.

He could say the words but he'd be lying.

"No," she answered for him. "And I can't say I didn't want you to." She couldn't say she wouldn't have let him, either; she'd  _let_  him do everything else…

The satisfaction of her admitting it was tempered by the fact that she was using it as an excuse to push him away. "But I  _wouldn_ _'_ _t_ ," Dov argued with a shake of his head. "No matter what's going on I wouldn't do that to Chris. Or Sue." His poor girlfriend was always such an afterthought.

It wasn't his  _intentions_ that were in question. "I wouldn't either, Dov. But back there – when we were having 'fun' – I wasn't thinking about Chris. Much less  _whatshername._ " Turning to stare out the window she sighed, "I can't just  _hope_  one of us is going to remember them before we do something stupid." One mistake and plausible deniability went out the window. Also, she was fairly certain if it happened once it wouldn't  _only_ be the once.

He couldn't tell her she was wrong – now that he knew she felt the same he was finding it almost impossible  _not_  to. "So my options are being miserable while I'm with you or being miserable without you…"

She wished he wouldn't put it like that. Or sound so… miserable… while doing it. "We're with the right people, remember?" In hindsight that conversation should have sent her running in the other direction.

Dov hadn't believed it when he'd said and he didn't believe it now. "Chris…"

Gail rolled her eyes. "No, Dov – my  _other_  boyfriend; I'm starting a collection…"

" _No_ …" They'd arrived at his car, the hood of which Chris was currently sitting on. Catching her attention Dov pointed him out. "Chris."

For as long as Gail lived she would never again follow a pointed finger. It could be, 'Hey! Hugh Jackman!' and she still wouldn't look…

Chris' hands balled into fists when he saw them. Bad enough they were together (like he'd had any doubt) but there was just something… overly familiar… about Dov driving  _her_  car that made him want to punch now, ask questions later.

Gail got out of the car, a neutral expression pasted on her face; just because she  _felt_  like she'd gotten caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar didn't mean she had to look it. "Hey, Babe. What are you doing here?"

If he was supposed to be reassured by her apparent innocence he wasn't; it just made him angrier. Especially when Dov stood beside her like it was them against him. "I've been trying to call you all night…" he informed her through gritted teeth. He'd planned on waiting until she got home to confront her but when Dov hadn't shown up…

Reading his annoyance Gail stepped forward so that she was between them. "I turned my phone off at the shooting range and just didn't turn it back on."

 _Likely_ _story._ "Somehow  _Dov_  managed to reach you, though, didn't he? Or did you 'reach' him?"

Despite his tone she managed to keep her voice light, hoping to diffuse the anger. "Neither, Chris – we ran into each other at the Penny…"

Chris couldn't believe how casual she made it out to be. "Just like you 'ran into' each other in the locker room this morning?" he scoffed. "Did you 'run into' each other last night, too?"

Mission  _not_ accomplished. Gail had expected the locker room to come back to bite her but the part about last night just didn't make sense. "I told you I saw him coming in when I left…" Specifically  _because_  she'd expected it to come back to bite her…

"Andy told me you weren't with the girls, Gail!" She hadn't denied the locker room but it still made him wonder how many  _other_  times she'd lied to him…

Okay, now Dov was confused, and he shot her a questioning look. "She wasn't with me."

"Chris, I wasn't." She didn't feel like explaining  _why_  she'd left the girls or that she'd spent the night in a diner alone like a loser; she'd rather he be suspicious than admit  _that_.

"And I should just believe you?" Shaking his head Chris sputtered, "When you've been sneaking around behind my back?" How could she  _not_  see why he was upset?

Gail folded her arms over her chest defiantly. "This is the first time I've spent more than ten minutes with him in the last two weeks." A little petulantly she added, "And I don't  _sneak_ …" Righteous indignation was easier to come by when you actually had something to be righteous about.

"Chris, it's true." They were barely paying attention to him but Dov felt the need to back her up.

Chris didn't know  _what_ to believe anymore. And it killed him. "You know, I tried to tell myself I was just being paranoid – that there was no  _way_  my girlfriend had feelings for my best friend – but there was always this doubt…" He paused to run a hand across his forehead. "Last night I thought I was  _done_  worrying, Gail; for the first time in weeks I could  _breathe_  again…"

His voice cracked, and a knot of absolute self-loathing took up residence in Gail's stomach. Chris was just as likely to hide his feelings as she was, but while she did it on purpose (and for less than noble reasons) he did it because he was just so  _used_  to suffering in silence. And she'd been so  _mad_  at him, for pushing Dov away, for making everything  _not_ okay, that she hadn't bothered to look deeper.

"And then he doesn't show up and no one's answering their phones, and Liam tells me you left two hours ago and Dov's car is here and yours isn't…" Chris fed the anger because he was dangerously close to breaking down. "So what the hell am I  _supposed_  to think, Gail?"

She moved to touch him but remembered Dov's presence and stopped herself. "We went to the arcade, Chris. That's all." But it  _wasn_ _'_ _t_  all, and she knew it was naive to think anyone there believed differently.

" _That_ _'_ _s_ _all_ ," Chris mimicked bitterly. Like her going to an arcade was No. Big. Thing. "I want the truth, Gail – I didn't ask before because I didn't really want to know – but I think it's about time I took my head out of the sand, don't you?" He was tired of her playing him for the fool. He was tired of  _letting_  her play him for the fool.

Dov hated himself for what he'd started; it was harder to ignore the damage he'd done when it was playing out right in front of him.

Gail wasn't any more ready to speak the truth than Chris was to hear it. Reaching out she put a hand on his arm. "Let's just go home, okay?" They could talk there, where she didn't feel quite so exposed. Or like any move she made would be seen as taking a side.

Her deflection told Chris everything she wouldn't. He shook her off of him, hissing, "I guess I got my answer…"

Dov stepped in without thinking. "Chris, calm down. This isn't the…"

"Don't talk to me!" Shoving him away Chris yelled, "I should have kicked your ass when I said I would!" He'd  _wanted_  to, except it would've driven Gail further away than she already was. Right now that didn't really seem possible so he figured he had nothing left to lose.

"Chris, look at me." Gail cupped his cheeks and waited for him to stop death glaring Dov to meet her eyes. "I'm with  _you._  I  _picked_  you."

Chris barked a laugh. " _Really_ , Gail? This is you picking me? Turning off your cell so I can't find you? Running around with my best friend behind my back?" Grabbing her wrists he pulled her hands away from his face and threw them back at her. "You barely let me touch you anymore but I'm supposed to believe this is you  _picking_  me?"

Gail wasn't used to being on the defensive; especially not with him. "I could have broken up with you, Chris," she reminded him quietly, "But I  _didn_ _'_ _t_. Just because I'm mad right now doesn't mean…"

" _Don_ _'_ _t_ , Gail!" he cut her off harshly. "Don't act like this started when you found out about Samuels! Not once did you tell me I had nothing to worry about; I explained it away as so  _crazy_  that you didn't think you needed to but I guess I'm the crazy one for trying to make excuses for you!" That's what hurt the most – she hadn't even cared enough to  _lie_.

Telling him she was mad about way more than Samuels would only exacerbate the situation so she didn't. But she didn't know what else  _to_  say. He was so easy to hurt and she was so oblivious to how much pain she could cause without even meaning to.

Dov saw her flounder and had to jump in. "Chris, I swear nothing is going on…"

Rounding on him Chris growled, "Shut up! This is all your fault!"

"Chris…" Gail pleaded, grabbing his arm to hold him back.

Her restraining hand was the only thing keeping Chris' closed fist from meeting Dov's face. "We were  _fine_  until you decided pining after my girlfriend wasn't enough and you had to tell her!"

"I didn't mean for that to happen, Chris," Dov promised, hands outstretched. "I never would have said anything…"

Gail tuned them out – she couldn't bear to listen to Dov desperately try to defend something Chris would never find defensible – and noticed that people were staring as they passed. She realized they were arguing outside a bar, the guys about to fight, and there wasn't even any alcohol involved. Despite the seriousness of the situation it struck her as the funniest thing in the world.

"Like hell, Dov! You…" Chris trailed off when Gail let him go to hide her face in her hands. "Babe?" Concerned, he pulled her hands away to find her silently chuckling.

His confusion only made her laugh harder;  _so_  hard her body shook and she had to bend over to try to catch her breath. Twice in two days, and this time there wasn't any vodka involved… She really  _was_  losing it.

Chris rubbed her back while glaring at Dov. "You got her  _drunk_?"

"What? No!" Dov chafed at the accusation – like  _drunk_  was the only way she'd be with him – and countered scornfully, "She was fine until  _you_  started stalking her…"

If he hadn't been worried about Gail Chris would have tackled him. " _Stalking_  her? She's  _my_ girlfriend, you son of a…"

Gail straightened to bark, "ENOUGH!" Suddenly it wasn't funny anymore, and she realized it didn't really matter what  _she_  wanted at all. "Do you not see how fucking  _ridiculous_ this is?"

Chris blinked at her change in mood, not even a trace of laughter in her deadly serious tone. "Huh?"

"You two…" She waved a cutting hand between them. "…are  _best_ _friends_  for Christ's sake! And you're about to pound the crap out of each other! For what?  _Me_?" Turning her hand inward she reminded them, "Frosty, Bitchy Bear, Ice Princess, Genghis Gail, Queen of Mean, Hannibal's Whore…" Seeing the surprise on their faces she intoned, " _Yeah_  – I know about that one." It was actually one of her favorites but that was neither here nor there.

If  _Chris_  had known he'd have done something about it. She may not care but he did. "Babe…"

Gail shook her head to cut him off. "Chris, our relationship isn't  _healthy_ ; most of the time I treat you like a child and you let me. You're sweet, and cute, and kind. You're kinda clueless sometimes but you're a good person – something I'll never be – and you can do better. You  _deserve_  better…"

He opened his mouth to tell her she was wrong, closing it with a denied pout when she made a zip-it motion.

If Gail was going to get through this without self-destructing it needed to be done quickly and without interruption. Turning to Dov she hissed, "You…"

"Gail,  _don_ _'_ _t_." He could already see where this was going and he didn't want to hear it; not from her.

Gail had to fight to keep eye contact. And her resolve. "You  _have_  done better. Your awesome bomb squad 'Hurt Locker' girlfriend is waiting for you. No baggage, no issues, no scathing nicknames. Except for the ones I gave her…" She forced a smile while running a shaky hand through her hair. "She wants to be with you, Dov. She wants to live with you.  _God_ , she probably even wants to marry you. She's probably one of those girly girls who spent her childhood planning her wedding…"

Dov watched her eyes well with tears before she blinked and they were gone. It was so completely opposite the egotistical territorial Gail from earlier that it was freaking him the hell out.

Knowing she couldn't keep her voice even Gail dropped it to a whisper. "You know what  _I_  was doing? Manipulating whoever I had to so I never had to do my own work…" Fellow students, teachers; the Principal once, just to prove she  _could_. Like she could do  _this_ , even if it felt like her heart was slowly being torn apart. Quietly (painfully), "You should be  _happy_  with her, Dov; you need to  _let_  her…" Hearing her voice crack she pursed her lips and took a second to compose herself before pointing at Chris. "And you… If you didn't have this pathological need to be dominated by every woman in your life you'd know enough to  _not_ be happy with  _me_ …"

Chris didn't know what to say. Even if he'd stopped to think about the consequences of getting in his truck and tracking her down this scenario never would have crossed his mind.

"Gail, that's not true…" The few times she'd let Dov see her vulnerable hadn't come anywhere close to this. He thought maybe it was an act to get herself out of trouble with Chris, wished it  _were_ , but for all her skill at repressing emotion she couldn't fake them if her life depended on it.

It  _was_  true, and she seemed to be the only one with the balls to say it. Waving a disinterested hand Gail forced a detached tone. "Your issues with Sue, your problems with each other; there's a common denominator there and it's  _me_. Seeing as you two are apparently  _okay_  with being god-damned idiots I'm taking  _myself_  out of the equation…"

The use of Sue's name made it even worse –  _real_  somehow – and this time Dov couldn't find his voice around the breath caught in his throat.

"What are you saying, Gail?" Chris wouldn't ask at all if he wasn't pretty sure he knew, but if she  _wasn_ _'_ _t_  breaking up with him he didn't want to give her the idea.

She saw the dread in his eyes, heard it in his voice, and as much as she wanted to take it away she couldn't. "I'm saying I'm done," she whispered hoarsely, "I can't do this anymore." She couldn't keep playing them against each other. And even if she were  _ready_  to choose she  _couldn_ _'_ _t_. Because if she picked Dov Chris would never forgive him, and if she stayed with Chris he would always be insecure about Dov. Either way, she wasn't prepared to take responsibility for the demise of their friendship. The only hope she had of salvaging it now was by getting the hell out of it.

Dov didn't know what was going through her head but this solution wasn't good for any of them. "You don't have to do this, okay? I'll keep my distance…"

Gail felt her vision blurring again and quickly willed it clear. "I'm not King Solomon, Dov, and this isn't a negotiation." She'd let it go on too long already. Before her determination could crumble she took his keys out and made to hand them to him.

She was either accusing him of trying to manipulate her or telling him she wasn't 'wise' enough to make a real decision. Dov really hoped she knew him well enough that it wasn't the first. Normally he couldn't see her even alluding to the latter but tonight nothing was  _normal_.

When he didn't move she swallowed hard. " _Keys_ , Dov…"

Blinking himself out of his thoughts Dov exchanged hers for his own. No touching, no lingering. Just a very cool, very impersonal transaction.

Gail concealed a sniffle behind a cough and slowly turned to Chris. "I'll pick up my stuff tomorrow before my shift." His face fell, reality setting in, and her heart clenched painfully. Voice tight she offered, "If you feel the need to destroy some of it start with that gaudy-ass dress my mom got me for the Policeman's Ball, okay?"

Chris could only nod.

" _Okay_." She left while they were still too stunned to try to stop her, falling into her car and heading off to God knew where. All she knew was that she was dangerously close to completely breaking down and she probably shouldn't be in control of a vehicle when she did. Parking, she rested her forehead against the steering wheel for a minute before getting out and shuffling up the walkway. She hesitated, contemplated walking away, then knocked on the door and waited for someone to open it.

"Hi!"

It took all the strength Gail had left to fake a smile. "Hey, Leo. Can you get your mom for me?" It belatedly crossed her mind that maybe Traci wasn't even home. She could have been out with Andy, or at Jerry's, or…

"Mom! That blonde lady from your work is here!"

Gail was surprised at how relieved she was to see her frenemy coming down the darkened hallway. "Your kid shouldn't be answering the door – especially in this neighbourhood."

The quaver in Gail's voice killed the retort on Traci's lips, the barely-contained anguish on the blonde's face more than enough indication that things had gone from bad to infinitely worse. "Oh,  _honey_ …"

The undeserved concern severed the last thread connecting Gail with her composure. Pitifully (shamefully) she whispered, "I didn't know where else to go…"


	11. Chapter 11

Gail accepted the mug with a nod, pulling her feet up onto the chair to rest her chin on her knees. "Thanks for not pushing me last night."

"Are you kidding?" Traci joked as she put the cream and sugar on the table, "I've already  _had_  the non-pleasure of meeting 'backed into a corner' Gail…" Not that the Gail she  _had_  gotten was any better; that had disappeared into the bathroom for twenty minutes before joining them for the end of Transformers; that hadn't said a word, just responded with nods or shakes of the head, face so blank it could have been carved out of marble. Traci had never thought waking up to ' _You_ _better_ _not_ _have_ _crap_ _coffee,_ _Nash_ ' would be so comforting…

'Trapped in a nightmare of her own making' hadn't exactly been a step up for Gail, though she couldn't really fault Traci for finding it preferable. "Sorry."

Traci took a seat and set to fixing her own cup. "Okay – you show up on my doorstep in the middle of the night, go mute on me, and now you're  _apologizing_?" 'Has hell frozen over?' was heavily implied in her tone.

She should've just gone with the damn doughnuts. "I'm not even gonna ask  _why_ your seven-year-old was up in the middle of the night…"

Except she kinda just  _did_. "It's the weekend – we were having movie night." Nudging the plate of toast Traci chastised, "Now eat. And stop changing the subject."

"Do you want me to eat or talk?" Gail asked facetiously, "'Cause my impeccable manners won't allow me to do both…" She didn't  _want_ to do either.

The attitude was there but the blonde's voice was oddly vacant, like she was on 'bitch' autopilot. " _Gail_ …"

Pushing the plate away in tacit refusal Gail sighed, "I broke up with Chris."

Traci had suspected as much but the question was  _why_ ; last she'd heard Gail was sticking it out, hell or high water. "What happened?"

 _Good_ _question._ Gail was still trying to figure out how she'd so thoroughly lost control of the situation. She thought it might have had something to do with having lost control of  _herself_ … "The guys were supposed to move the rest of Dov's stuff so I didn't go home. Chris knew – we took separate cars to work – but then Dov didn't show and he got suspicious." Running a hand through her hair she scoffed, "Remind me to thank Andy for her big mouth, by the way." She could kiss the apology – and the doughnuts – goodbye.

"Hey – maybe if you'd warned the rest of the class about your little secret she wouldn't have slipped up…" Andy was a terrible liar  _prepared_ , much less taken unawares. "And I tried to give you the head's up but I kept getting your voicemail…"

She really should have checked her messages. "Well, because of the locker room he assumed I was with Dov that night. Which I wasn't."

Traci had heard about the locker room incident from Andy who had heard it from Chris who had heard it from some guy who  _clearly_  lacked a sense of self-preservation. There hadn't been any details but she could pretty much guess how the conversation had gone, and why Gail hadn't said anything about it. She could also guess where  _this_ conversation was going: "But you were with Dov  _last_  night…"

"Not on purpose," Gail justified. "I found him at the Penny – drunk as a skunk – and I couldn't just leave him there when him  _being_  there was my fault." Pointing her spoon at the ceiling she declared, "I swear, the universe  _is_  out to get me."

"I think the universe has more important things to worry about than your hell-a complicated love life…" Holding up her hands at the displeased eyebrow Traci defended, " _Just_ _sayin_ _'_."

" _Anyway_ _…"_  Gail dismissed with a wave. "When we got back to the bar Chris was waiting. And he was pissed." As an afterthought she clarified, " _Mad_ , not drunk…"

 _Got_ _back?_ " Wait… where'd you go?"

The suspicious tone had Gail scolding, "Get your mind out of the gutter, Nash – we went to an arcade." She wouldn't have shared that at all but she needed to make clear:  _still_  not a cheater.

Miss 'Bedroom eyes in the parade room' was telling  _her_ to get her mind out of the gutter?  _And_  had stepped foot in an arcade? Girl had it  _bad_ … "So what happened?"

Gail forced an indifferent shrug. "We argued, they almost fought, I chose neither."

That was a strange way to put it. "It wasn't one of those cheesy 'I choose me' moments, was it?"

"All my moments are 'I choose me' moments, Traci; you should know that by now…" Gail really had no idea what it was but it did sound like her. Minus the 'cheesy' part.

Traci tilted her head consideringly. "Is this some convoluted way of getting rid of Chris so you can be with Dov?" She had to ask – it seemed right up Gail's alley.

"And sleep on your crappy couch to make it look legit?" Gail scoffed. "I'm not that dedicated…"

" _Gail_ …" Just  _once_  she'd like to get a straight answer without having to pry it out.

Gail was really starting to hate that tone. "Unless I've become  _so_  devious that my subconscious is plotting without my knowledge,  _no_." She'd be pretty damn impressed with herself if that were the case, though. And a little bit scared.

Taking a sip of her coffee Traci admitted, "Then I don't understand." The girl had two guys in love with her and walked away with neither one,  _intentionally_ …

 _Blind_ _leading_ _the_ _blind._ "You forgot one key difference when you were mounting your Rah Rah Kumbaya 'we are the same' argument yesterday." She dropped the imaginary pompoms to pick up her drink.

Traci was almost afraid to ask. "Which is?"

Gail pointed an accusatory finger, still holding the mug. "You and Andy weren't destroying a friendship at the same time." Jerry and Dex didn't even know each other, and Sam and Luke could barely be called civil colleagues much less BFFs.

"Okay…" Traci blinked, her brain struggling to compute. "You broke up with them to save  _their_ relationship?" That was… not what she'd expected.

"Who's making it cheesy now?" Gail countered wryly. Grabbing a slice of toast she started ripping it into itty bitty pieces, covering, "I did it to save  _my_  sanity – I don't do well with guilt." She really didn't, mostly because it wasn't often she actually  _felt_  it.

She hadn't seemed guilt-free last night, shaking like a leaf on the porch, but Traci knew she wouldn't cop to anything deeper. "I think that ship has sailed, Gail," she pointed out gently, "Chris is still going to blame Dov…"

The upside to not sleeping was having time to iron the kinks out of a half-assed spur-of-the-moment plan. "Maybe at first. But I know my…" Gail trailed off and took a shaky breath. "I know Chris – if I'm not around he'll forget." He really  _was_  like a dog that way. The thought made her want to laugh  _and_  cry, and she shoved the rest of the toast in her mouth before either could materialize.

Her eyes were glossy but there were no tears, and it took Traci a second to register what she'd said. "What do you mean 'not around'?"

Gail took a drink of coffee to help the bread down. "I'm going to take opposite shifts until I can get myself transferred to a new division."

Traci had no doubt she'd do it; quickly, too, with her connections. "Okay, I know this whole 'putting others before yourself' thing is new to you but you're taking it a little far…"

 _The_ _further_ _the_ _better._  "You weren't there, Traci; Chris has a temper…" Shaking her head Gail started to pick at a chip in the table. "If I hadn't completely blind-sided him he would have seriously hurt Dov. And he would have had every reason to…"

"It's a bad situation," Traci allowed, reaching out to still the blonde's fidgety hands. "But I'm sure it's going to blow over. You don't have to…"

"I  _want_  to," Gail interrupted forcefully. She needed to be able to move on, and she couldn't do that if she had to watch  _them_  do it. Pulling her hands away she wrapped them around her mug and adopted a lighter tone. "Besides, the 15's turned me soft – I should have made you all my bitches by now…"

Soft- _er_  maybe, but no one would ever accuse Gail of being  _soft_. "Look, you had a rough couple of days and you made an impulsive decision; there's no shame in taking some time to figure things out."

'Rough' was a bit of an understatement, as was 'couple of days.' Gail focused on the mug, trying to suck some of its heat into her numb body. "It's the  _only_ decision I've made since this whole thing started. For weeks I didn't  _do_  anything, just waited for it to get better; for the decision to be made  _for_ me somehow…" Voice cracking she whispered, "That wasn't  _me_ , Traci; I needed to do  _something_ …"

She sounded so defeated, so uncharacteristically  _helpless_ , that Traci's heart clenched in sympathy. "Hate to break it to you, babe…" She put a hand on Gail's arm and waited for her to look up before finishing softly, "but giving them both up and running away is  _not_ you…"

The combination of the words and the tone made Gail's eyes well up again, and this time she couldn't stop the tears from escaping. "Thanks for the reality check, Nash," she laughed bitterly, grabbing a napkin to dab violently at the evidence of her weakness.

In some ways Gail was more fragile than Andy, a Jenga tower of truths and pretenses and walls; shift too many pieces too quickly and risk the entire thing coming down. "Can I tell you what I think?"

"'Cause so far you've been holding back?" Gail returned hoarsely, disbelieving eyebrow in place.

Traci could give unconditional support; what she  _couldn_ _'_ _t_  do was sit idly by and let Gail delude herself. "I think you made your choice, and you're punishing yourself because it's not the 'right' one."

"Right…" Gail bit off half-heartedly, "'Cause how stupid would you have to be to believe I just want to save their friendship?"

"That's not what I'm saying," Traci denied with a shake of the head. There was a fine line between handling Gail with kid gloves, which she'd resent, and being so blunt she refused to listen out of spite. "My theory actually works better if you're  _not_  a heartless shrew…"

Gail narrowed her eyes. "Traci, I've gotten a grand total of thirty hours sleep this week – only four of it over the last two nights – so  _please_  spare me the Dr. Ruth psycho-babble…"

Of course Gail would consider any type of introspection 'psycho-babble;' her idea of being 'self-aware' was knowing what everyone thought of her and not caring. "If you chose Chris –  _really_  chose Chris, none of this passive 'status quo' nonsense – you know Dov would accept it and stay away. And by your own logic Chris would forget and everything would be fine." Traci put up a hand to forestall the blonde's impending argument. " _Which_ _means_  the only reason their friendship would be over is if you chose Dov..."

No one liked having their words used against them and Gail was no exception. "I think I need a whiteboard and a couple of flow charts just to follow your whack reasoning…" she deflected.

It seemed pretty clear to Traci, but Gail only ever saw what Gail wanted to see. "I don't know how you can be so good at reading people and still be so stubbornly blind when it comes to yourself."

"It's a gift," Gail proclaimed with a feigned smirk. It was also a necessity if she didn't want to go off the deep end… "Hey – do you think Frank'll buy it if I call in dead?"

The abrupt change in topic told Traci that Gail had heard her, even if she  _was_  doing her damnedest to ignore it, and she chose to let it go before she shifted one piece too many. "Sorry – I think he's smart enough to know you can't make calls from the beyond." Getting serious she proposed, "But if you want to call in sick you can hang out here; my mom's taking Leo skating so you can probably even get a nap in…"

As tempting as it was Gail didn't have the time, or the temperament, to ditch work and hide out. "Can't – I told Chris I'd get my stuff before shift." She was also hoping some loser decided today would be a good day to test her…

 _Speaking_ _of_ _which_ _…_  "Where are you going to stay?"

"Peck Palace," Gail informed her, lips tight in a sardonic smile. "So long as you're willing to check your self-respect at the door it's actually pretty nice as far as accommodations go…" She didn't have much self-respect  _left_  so she figured it was a fair trade.

Traci didn't know what Gail's issues with her mom were but dealing with the woman was the last thing she needed. "It's not much but you're welcome to stay here. Or maybe Andy…"

"No, thanks," Gail interrupted, not unkindly. One night of depending on someone else's generosity was more than enough for her. "As much as I like my sanity I like being comfortable even more…"

 _Or_  it was part of her self-imposed punishment… "At least let me come with you to the apartment for moral support…"

Gail laughed without humor. "Come on, Traci – we both know I have no morals  _to_ support." Before she could be rewarded with her name in  _that_ tone she added softly, "Look, I appreciate the offer but Chris and I need to talk; he deserves better than how I left things yesterday."

"Okay." Traci could appreciate that she was taking the mature route but didn't envy her the task. "What are you going to say?"

"No idea," Gail admitted dryly, "but winging it has worked incredibly well for me so far so I guess I'm gonna stick to that…"

Typical sarcasm aside Traci really was concerned. "Will you at least think about what I said before going to Frank?" Taking one last crack at it she posed, "I know you don't want to hurt Chris – believe me, I do – but is the alternative of hurting Dov, and yourself, really any better?"

Gail downed the lukewarm coffee to wet her dry mouth, then waved the empty mug with a terse, "Dov'll be fine; he's survived worse." This was nothing compared to what had happened with Adam, and this time he had Sue to help him through it. Swallowing the sudden lump in her throat she announced, "Anyway, I should get going…" She had a lot to do before parade.

Traci watched silently as she stood and went to rinse her mug, searching for something else to say. "The offer's still open if you change your mind, okay?"

Leaning back against the sink Gail just nodded; they both knew she wouldn't. "And if you ever need someone to look after the rugrat while you continue your ineffectual climb to the top you let me know."

"I think I'd be better off leaving him in the drunk tank for the night…" Traci teased back, more because Gail needed her to than because she actually felt it.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Gail allowed, pushing herself off the counter. "It's okay, though – I only offered 'cause I knew you wouldn't take me up on it…" With a condescending wink she walked out of the room.

Gail was clinging to the snark like it was a life preserver, the one thing she had left, and Traci worried about what would happen when it inevitably failed her. Sighing, she got up to show the blonde out.


	12. Chapter 12

Gail took her cell from her bag and turned it on before tossing both items onto the passenger seat. No sooner had she pulled into the street than the messages and texts started coming through. And kept coming. And coming… She was about to turn the damn thing off again (or throw it out the window) when the obnoxious chirping mercifully stopped and the car fell silent. Once she'd parked in front of their building she grudgingly picked it back up to find five texts from Chris, two from Dov, one from Andy, one from Sue ( _ugh_ ), and twelve voicemail she'd have to listen to if she wanted to know who left them. Which she didn't. But it gave her an excuse to delay the inevitable, and at the moment cowardice was far more appealing than being mature.

She forced herself to listen to Chris' increasingly agitated messages, the tremor in his voice belying the harshness of his words. She followed along, stomach clenched with guilt and self-loathing, as he became more and more certain of why she was avoiding him, who she was with, and what  _they_  were doing. The only thing that saved her from a complete meltdown were the intermittent messages: one from her mother reminding her of a charity event they were supposed to attend together (almost impossible to get out of now that she'd be living under the same roof), a few from Traci and Andy (the warnings she'd never gotten but probably wouldn't have changed anything if she had), and one from Steve who'd caught wind of the I.A. investigation and wanted to know if there was anything he could do to help (which was  _really_  his way of saying 'told you so'). The last two were from Dov, and she deleted them as soon as she  _knew_  they were.

The texts were more detached, easier to deal with. Andy's was predictable, a recap of the message she'd left. Sue's 'we need to talk' was ominous but hardly at the top of Gail's list of priorities. Chris' were much like his voicemails. Except for the last one. That one read simply 'when are you coming home?' and it killed her that it was from only an hour before; killed her that everything she'd put him through and he was still there  _waiting_. Biting her lip to keep it from trembling she opened Dov's, if only to distract herself so she wouldn't cry. Both were from that morning, both asking her to just let him know that she was okay. And all they did was make her feel even more contemptible and hopeless than she had before. Crossing her arms over the steering wheel Gail dropped her head onto them and took slow breaths until the urge to vomit passed.

She wanted to run. She wanted to forget Chris and Dov and work and just find her dad and beg him to hold her and stroke her hair and whisper ' _Everything_ _'_ _s_ _going_ _to_ _be_ _okay,_ _Luscinia;_ _Daddy_ _promises_ _…_ ' like he used to do back when she was still young enough for her mother to not consider it coddling. Elaine's version of comfort was them casually sipping tea while she not-so-casually pointed out how Gail had undeniably brought whatever it was upon herself. When her first boyfriend had broken up with her Elaine's reaction had been 'well, what did you do?' which was particularly funny considering, as Gail later found out, Steve had  _pushed_  the boy to do it at their mother's bidding. And all because his father had a ten-year-old misdemeanour on his record that wouldn't reflect well on their family. Gail didn't need a crystal ball to know that her mother's response to  _this_  break-up would be 'I told you Craig was too nice for you' while secretly thinking 'good riddance, Okie from Muskogee…'

But one debilitating soul-crushing conversation at a time... Gail steeled herself and moved to the apartment on autopilot. Her key was in the lock before she thought better of it – she didn't want to give Chris any reason to think she  _was_  coming 'home' – then gave Mr. Jacobs a shaky smile when he came out of his apartment to find her knocking on her own door.

Chris wasn't surprised she hadn't just let herself in – despite the mouth on her she actually preferred making her points non-verbally – and he couldn't even be happy that she looked like hell. Instead he was worried about where she'd slept,  _if_ she'd slept, and if she'd even bothered eating. Usually the first sign (sometimes the  _only_ sign) she was upset was that her crazy appetite disappeared completely, the mere thought of food making her nauseous, and more than once he'd actually thought she was pregnant before he'd made the (disappointing) connection. "Gail, I…"

"Jesus, Chris," she cut him off wearily, still standing in the hallway, "at least let me in first…" Like she wanted the whole building knowing their business…

Embarrassed, Chris moved aside. "Right… sorry."

It was automatic for him, ever the pacifist, but she was the  _last_  person he should be apologizing to and it made her want to scream. Entering the apartment she took a calming breath before turning back to him. "Show me your hands."

Chris blinked. "What?"

"I want to see your hands," she repeated evenly. She would have just  _taken_  them but she didn't need to make it any harder than it already was.

He caught on when she held her own out palms down to demonstrate. Copying her stance he sighed, "We didn't fight, Gail…" They hadn't done  _anything_ , just looked at each other then went their separate ways.

She gave a relieved nod, the unblemished skin backing him up. "Are you okay?" Because she couldn't face him (or his answer) she walked away.

Following her to their…  _his_ _…_  bedroom Chris scoffed, "Should I be? I don't even know what happened…" Somehow he'd gone from thinking about breaking up with her – thinking of  _threatening_  it at least – to her breaking up with him. And he'd spent the night wondering what he should have done differently.

"Remember the day we got together?" she posed quietly, kneeling to pull her suitcase from under the bed. When he didn't respond she specified, "The day creepy old pedo guy hit on you, not the day you almost got yourself killed by a squatter…" It was sad that those were the events that marked their days; even sadder that she'd  _had_  to specify.

Chris wasn't sure he wanted to have this conversation – expected her next words to be that it had been a mistake – and he only answered because she was obviously waiting for him to. " _Yeah_ …"

As she started to empty her side of the closet Gail avoided his wary eyes, battling the tears already attempting to fill her own. "You told me I was mean and nagged me until I put my seat belt on…" Smiling wistfully at the memory she confessed, "I miss  _that_  us, Chris." It was true, what they said – at the end you  _did_  start thinking about the beginning…

Sitting on the bed Chris busied himself with folding her bunched clothes then putting them neatly back in the suitcase. After a minute of uncomfortable silence he supplied bitterly, "Before  _Dov_." It wasn't  _them_  that had changed…

"Before  _we_ _broke_ _up_ ," she corrected softly. As much as she'd love to hold Dov responsible the bulk of their problems had nothing to do with him at all. "Ever since we got back together it's like you're afraid to even  _breathe_  around me. And after the way I ended it the first time I don't blame you…" She  _couldn_ _'_ _t_  blame him; not when she only encouraged him to feel that way.

Typical Gail – blame him with one sentence then turn around and say she  _didn_ _'_ _t_  blame him in the next. But he knew she  _was_  blaming him, and he knew it was  _just_  an excuse. "You're acting like I never disagree with you…"

The wounded tone had her shaking her head. "I'm not talking about disagreeing with me, Chris; you're entitled to your opinion, no matter how wrong it is…" She let out an awkward sigh; even when she was  _trying_  to be nice she never quite managed. "I'm talking about standing up to me."

 _What_ _the_ _hell?_ " I stand up to you…" He didn't know if her goal was getting Dov off the hook or rationalizing her own actions but Chris wasn't going to just stand there (sit there) and let her make  _him_  out to be the bad guy. He couldn't believe she even had the nerve to  _try._

'Afraid to breathe' may have been a slight exaggeration but she wasn't making it up like he seemed to think she was. "Okay – when?"

"Uh…" Chris' hands paused their work as he thought about it. There wasn't really much he needed to stand up to her  _about_ – he was usually pretty laid-back. "…about the dog."

"You told me then fled the apartment," Gail recapped, unconvinced. "I gave in  _temporarily_  because you'd already agreed to take it until you found its people." There wasn't a doubt in her mind he'd wanted to keep it, or that he'd only looked so hard for the owners because she'd said no.

Okay, so she hadn't been thrilled about it but he  _had_  won her over; if they hadn't found the owners Tiny would've been the newest  _littlest_  member of the Deckstein household. "You changed your mind in the end …"

Not because of anything  _he_ _'_ _d_  done, though he didn't know that. And the fact that he hadn't even brought up getting another mutt meant he'd caved more than she had. "Try again."

Chris scoured his memory for an instance she wouldn't be able to minimize. "The quarantine…" She couldn't deny that one. He was actually pretty damn proud of that one.

He was right, but it made her point more than it did his. "We thought I was dying, Chris – breaking up wasn't exactly a big concern…" It wasn't a coincidence she'd never wanted him ( _loved_  him) more than she had in that moment; problem  _was_  those moments were depressingly few and far between.

Hiding how much the lack of credit hurt he bit the bullet and reminded her, "I put my foot down about Dov." He hadn't wanted to bring it up – had a feeling it had been the beginning of the end – but she'd left him no other choice.

Gail sighed, moving to the dresser. "No, you didn't; you passive-aggressively  _pushed_  him out. And I let you because I felt guilty." That's what guilt got her; if she  _hadn_ _'_ _t_ let him they could have at least pretended things had gone back to normal. 'Fake it 'til you make it' as Traci would say.

It was pretty much an admission she'd done something wrong, at least more than she'd allowed up to now, but it hardly seemed important anymore. Chris just wanted things to go back to the way they were. With his girlfriend  _and_  his best friend. "Gail, that's not true…"

" _Please,_ " she scoffed half-heartedly, "If I'd told you to just get the hell over it you would have folded faster than Oliver with pocket sixes…" Just like he had when the Samuels thing had come out. Like he was  _now_.

"You don't know that, Gail." Just because he chose to avoid conflict didn't mean he couldn't hold his own, and he was pretty sure that was one battle he wouldn't have backed down from. He hadn't backed down last night, though he was sure she'd find extenuating circumstances for that, too. "I  _am_  able to stand up for myself…"

Gail  _knew_  he could. With perps, witnesses, their friends,  _her_ _mom_. "But not with  _me_ ; all I have to do is raise an eyebrow and you're clearing your throat and planning your escape."  _I_ _'_ _m_ _just_ _gonna_ _go_ _over_ _…_

"That's not fair," he argued hotly, "you do it on purpose!" She'd said as much so he didn't know why she was putting it on him now.

His tone setting her off she snapped, "That's my  _point_!" She ran a shaky hand through her hair, realizing he probably wouldn't be so offended if she'd just  _led_  with that; in her defence she really hadn't thought he'd spend twenty minutes disputing what she knew for fact. "I wasn't kidding when I said our relationship is dysfunctional, Chris – we bring out each other's worst qualities. You feed my superiority complex and I… well, I'm your mother." From what she'd gathered Denise had been pretty much the same (more controlling, less bitchy) and he'd been smart enough to get rid of  _her,_  high school sweetheart or not.

 _Huh?_ He was glad she was taking responsibility (at least partially) but he didn't know what his mother had to do with anything – Gail had never even met her. "What are you talking about?"

It was on the tip of her tongue, what Ryan had told her, but in spite of everything Chris loved his mom and Gail couldn't take  _that_  away from him, too. "My personality is too strong for you – you need a girl who's going to keep you on your toes without riding roughshod over them." Way back when she'd thought that girl was Andy, actually.

If she thought she was being subtle in where this was headed she was wrong. "And  _you_  need Dov…" Because Dov called her on her shit, Dov wasn't intimidated by a glare, and Dov didn't let her 'ride roughshod' all over him (whatever the hell  _that_  meant). But Dov wasn't dating her, either, and Dov would find out that standing up to her wasn't so simple when it meant maybe  _losing_  her.

Gail didn't  _need_  anyone; she'd  _Survivor_ ed her way ten miles through the woods in the dark  _on_ _her_ _own_ , for Christ's sake. "This isn't about Dov.  _Forget_  Dov!"

Chris wished he  _could_ , but the timing was a little too convenient. "You didn't have a problem with our relationship being 'dysfunctional'  _before_  him, did you?"

Reluctantly, she revealed, "I did; I just didn't say anything." Finding out about Tina had changed the way Gail looked at their relationship – made her  _really_  look at it for the first time – and she hadn't liked what she'd seen. For a while she'd tried to be less domineering, offering to keep the dog, but he made it so  _hard_  because he made controlling him so  _easy_. And now on top of controlling him she was  _betraying_  him, and she couldn't  _let_  him let her do that, too.

"But you're saying something  _now_  because of Dov…" Chris wasn't stupid enough to believe differently.

He wasn't wrong but Gail was trying to end their feud, not inflame it, so she went with a different truth. " _Because_  I want better for you, Chris; someone who'll help you through your issues instead of take advantage of them. Someone who can give you her everything." Voice hoarse she added, "And that's not me…" She protected him from whatever she could – having to talk to Ryan, Samuels implicating him, her brother wanting to ruin his career – but turns out what he  _really_ needed protection from was her and  _her_  issues _._  She wasn't proud that it had taken her this long to realize it. "Can you go get me another bag?" she asked suddenly, turning so he couldn't see the wet tracks appearing on her cheeks.

Chris was confused by the non-sequitor but complied.

She managed to pull herself together by the time he got back. "Thanks."

While she tossed her makeup and jewellery in the box he'd found Chris leaned up against the wall to watch her in the mirror. "Were you ever?"

Gail blinked at his reflection. "Ever what?" She'd thought (hoped) the discussion was over; couldn't for the life of her remember what she'd said last. Blamed it on lack of sleep, not how emotionally charged and mentally unstable she was. Pecks didn't do emotional  _or_  unstable.

"The 'someone,'" he prompted softly. If she'd sent him out of the room to distract him into dropping it she'd failed; this was too important for him to just forget about.

The simple question threatened Gail's composure, and she struggled to wrap herself up in the cool demeanour that was her birthright. "Honestly? No. But because of  _me_ , not you." They'd jumped right into the physical – him to get over Denise, her to feel something other than the overwhelming weight on her shoulders – and the rest had come after. She'd never meant to fall for him (hadn't meant to fall for  _anyone_ ) and she sure as hell hadn't been capable of the selflessness a real relationship required ( _still_  wasn't, obviously) much less the sensitivity he in particular needed. There was nothing about her that was  _good_  for him. Or anyone else for that matter. "But Chris, I don't regret being with you; I need you to know that."

Chris narrowed his eyes in disbelief. "Like you don't wish you were with Dov instead…" She said it wasn't about Dov but he just couldn't let it go; didn't know that he ever would.

"Not for a second," she promised without hesitation, facing him so he could see she was sincere. If he were smarter  _he_ _'_ _d_  wish she'd been with Dov instead; turn back time and save himself from the disaster that was her. The only thing  _she_  would change was how she'd ended it. Both times.

He believed her. He didn't know that he  _should_ , but he did. And it gave him hope. Pushing himself off the wall he reached out to her, whispering, "Gail,  _I_ _love_ _you_." He didn't care that they were dysfunctional, or unhealthy. They were  _them,_ most of the time they were  _happy_ , and they could work on the rest.

Gail bit the inside of her lip so hard she tasted blood, but the tears didn't fall so she considered it a win. " _I love you, too._ " Before she could give in she took a step back and forced herself to meet his eyes. "But sometimes love isn't enough, Chris. Sometimes it just makes it harder to do the right thing."  _God_ , she sounded like one of those quacks from daytime TV. She  _felt_ like she'd aged twenty years in the last two weeks.

Chris felt the hope shrivel and die. Crossing his arms over his chest he demanded, "Do you love Dov?"

"Chris, I'm not leaving you for Dov." She turned to finish packing up her things, away from the hurt he was radiating 'cause all she wanted to do was take it all away by taking it all back.

Shaking his head he bit off, "That wasn't the question, Gail." The least she could do was own up to it.

That he was standing up to her  _now_ , when they'd already broken up, wasn't lost on her. That he was doing it on the one thing she'd really rather he  _didn_ _'_ _t_  was just salt in already extensive wound. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "But it's not more, Chris. It's not even  _better_ ; it's just different." For very different reasons. "And it doesn't matter." New Division, new  _direction_ : backwards, to the 'no holds barred, take no prisoners,  _cold_ _as_ _ice_ ' Gail Peck of old. She wouldn't do to someone else what she'd done to Chris; would never again let anyone get close enough that she  _could_.

Of course it  _mattered_ ; she was in love with someone else. "If you think I'm gonna give you my blessing…"

"I  _expect_  you to get on with your life," she interrupted harshly. "And to stop blaming Dov for something none of us could control. He's your best friend."

That was a cop-out and she knew it; his best friend wouldn't have made a play for his girlfriend. "He's not…"

" _Chris_ …" Her tone held just a hint of menace, enough to halt his words, and she met his gaze unwaveringly. "This is me telling you to get the hell over it."  _That_  was her ending the conversation, before it could end her.


	13. Chapter 13

Gail ended the call and switched the phone to silent before putting it in her bag and making her way into the station. The conversation with her mother had gone better than anticipated ( _far_  less painfully than the one with Chris), but only because the senior Peck had been on her way to an early lunch with people far less  _patient_ than she was. When Gail had quickly explained that she needed to come home for a while (and reluctantly  _why_ ) Elaine had responded 'Of course we'd love to have you, dear' then paused a beat before 'tsk'ing 'It's just a shame your boyfriend had to dump you for us to see you at all…' Gail hadn't bothered to correct her; she'd gotten off easy, considering.

Knocking on the door she took a steadying breath while she waited for Frank to wave her in. "Sir, do you have a few minutes?"

Frank was starting to dread having Gail in his office as much as he did her mother; she wasn't in uniform yet but she was standing rod straight, oozing formality (he almost expected her to salute), and he knew it wasn't a social visit. Her visits (like her mother's) rarely  _were_ … "Of course. What can I do for you, Officer Peck?"  _'This time'_ was unspoken yet heavily implied.

He motioned for her to sit but Gail shook her head. "I'm here to put in for a transfer, sir." Short, to the point. Before she lost her nerve.

The division's Golden Child wanted to transfer  _out_? Leaning on the desk Frank steepled his hands and studied her appraisingly. "This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with your  _last_  'request,' would it?"

Gail fought the urge to flinch under the weight of his stare. She knew he  _knew_  it did – there'd been too many rumors flying around for him  _not_  to – but apparently they were going to play the game anyway. Fine by her; she was playing The Game when most other kids had been playing Princess and Pokémon… "I just think I'll be better able to succeed at a different division, sir." It wasn't a complete fabrication; she probably  _would_  fare better without the Peck legacy hanging over her head like the Sword of Damocles.

There were more believable excuses she could have come up with than that; the fact that her parents made up two thirds of the highest ranking officials of the 15 almost guaranteed her success. Not that she needed it. "I disagree. You're doing well…"

Gail cut him off with a somewhat terse, "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

Frank raised an eyebrow but waved at her to go ahead.

"I need a transfer request form, not a career counselor…" Or any other kind.

There was no inflection but the message was loud and clear; unfortunately for her Frank couldn't afford to mind his own business. Not this time. "Does your mother know you're here?"

Translation:  _Do you have mommy's permission?_  "Would you be asking me that if I were any other officer?" she asked faux-casually through gritted teeth.

Frank sighed. "You know you're not any other officer, Peck…" Most of her immediate and extended family had the power to end  _his_ career.

Gail had to work really hard to keep her tone non-confrontational. "Then  _you_ know I could have gotten myself transferred without you being any the wiser…"

She wasn't wrong. "Which begs the question: why  _are_  you here?" The clench of her jaw made it clear it wasn't for his input.

Lots of reasons. Among them: "I respect you too much to go over your head…" She was also smart enough not to burn her bridges behind her.

It seemed she'd left the sentence hanging so he prompted, "But…"

Gail held his eyes, deadly serious. " _But_  I will if I have to."

With a defeated huff of breath Frank took the form from his drawer and handed it to her. "What's going on, Gail?" There were so many rumors going around he didn't know  _what_  to believe, and he was beginning to think being Staff Sergeant was a lot like being a high school Principal…

"I told you." She sat down to fill it out, avoiding his gaze.

Frank covered the form with his hand. "And I don't believe you."

Gail looked up, but only to stare him down. After a lengthy stand-off he finally moved his hand and she finished up, signing her name with an over-exuberant flourish. Ripping off the first two copies she slid them across the desk to him. "This shift ends my rotation…"

Hearing the expectation Frank shook his head. "We're in the middle of a cycle, Gail; I can't just switch you out before it's done." She had five days off until her next rotation – he'd been hoping to find out what was  _really_ going on by then. Or that she'd rethink her decision.

No way in  _hell_  was she sticking around for another two weeks, and he should really know how ridiculous it was to try to red tape  _her_  of all people. She knew the system probably better than he did; knew their job was far too unpredictable for  _anything_  to be set in stone… "There are lots of rookies just waiting for an opportunity to serve in your division, sir – if you can persuade one of your counterparts to take me off your hands you should have no trouble at all."

Persuading someone to take her off his hands wasn't a problem; between her record and her Godfather she was arguably the most  _sought after_  rookie there was. And she knew it. Frank didn't know which was worse: being oblivious to the fact you were being manipulated or  _knowing_  you were and allowing it… "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

Gail had to will her voice unaffected, his expression telling her it was about more than just her last name. "I don't think so, sir – I've heard I can be quite stubborn." Holding back tears she deadpanned, "You should probably leave that part out of your sales pitch, though…"

Frank didn't fail to notice her struggle. "Gail…"

Picking up her copy of the form she stood. "I have complete faith in your negotiating skills, sir."

 _There is no other option._ "Of course you do," he sighed. She was  _undeniably_  her mother's daughter…

Gail didn't care for the position she was putting him in but it was unavoidable. "Thanks for taking the time to see me," she placated with a forced smile.

Frank would wish he  _hadn't_  but it wouldn't have deterred her any. "This is your family, Gail. I want you to remember that…"

She knew he wasn't just referring to it being Division 'Peck,' and she acknowledged his words with a tight nod. Resisting the urge to flee from his concern she calmly turned and left.

Dov looked up from his spot on the bench when the door to Frank's office opened. He didn't even get a chance to open his mouth before Gail saw him, groaned, and held up a hand.

"Not now, Dov." She was having a hard enough time keeping it together as it was.

"Who says I'm waiting for you?" She hadn't answered his calls or texts; now that he knew she was okay he kinda wanted to throttle her.

Gail rolled her eyes as she passed him. "Whatever."

Playing it cool obviously hadn't worked so he rushed to catch up with her. "Alright – so I was waiting for you…"

 _Evidently._ "And I'm waiting for Godot…" she returned without missing a beat, stuffing the paper in her bag as inconspicuously as she could.

Dov looked at her, brow furrowed; either she was just being facetious or she'd forgotten he'd been force-fed the classics at Renfield Prep. "What were you talking to Frank about?" He doubted they'd been debating existentialism…

Thank God for his predictability: toss out a semi-deep observation and he was too busy trying to decipher what she'd meant by it to notice anything else. "He wanted advice on how to run something by my dad."

It was altogether possible – Inspector Peck was a renowned hard-ass – but Dov knew her too well to not be suspicious. Dragging her to a stop he huffed, "Gail…"

" _Don't touch me,_ " she growled, rounding on him. She couldn't handle touching. Not now.

Dov winced but didn't let go, tightening his hold and pulling her into an empty room instead. "Tell me what's going on…"

Shaking him off Gail hiked the bag back up onto her shoulder. "I said everything I needed to last night." There  _was_  more but she'd barely come to terms with it herself; him knowing would only make things harder.

She couldn't possibly think she'd gotten rid of him that easily; should know they were way beyond him giving up just because she'd  _told_  him to. "You know it's not that simple," he argued, voice determined.

It wasn't, not on its own, but Gail was doing everything in her power to  _make_  it that simple. She couldn't tell him that either, though, and it was starting to weigh on her, all the things she  _wasn't_  saying. Dropping her gaze to the buttons of his uniform she breathed, "It  _is_ , Dov."  _You just don't know it yet._

That she refused to look at him said otherwise, and Dov placed his fingers under her chin to tilt her head back up to him. " _Hey_ …" Her eyes were brimming with tears and she was biting her lip, and the next thing he knew her arms were around his waist and her face was in his neck. It wasn't like her usual hugs where her arms were over and she was in control; now she was  _clinging_  to him and his skin was damp and all he could think was that  _he'd broken her_  while he held her to him tightly, the breath caught in his throat.

 _Oh God._  When Gail realized what she was doing she withdrew like he was on fire, shamed by her neediness. Pulling her hand into the sleeve of her sweater she quickly swiped it across the wet tracts on his neck. "That didn't happen," she warned hoarsely.

It took Dov a second to react, and by the time he thought to grab her wrist she'd already retreated. "Gail,  _talk to me_ …"

Manically drying her face with one hand she picked up her bag that had fallen with the other. "I gotta go." This time she  _did_  flee, practically mowing people down in her haste to reach the relative safety of the locker room.

"You went to see Frank about transferring…" Traci accused when Gail rushed in.

Gail blinked at the intrusion on her thoughts, then narrowed her eyes. "A little  _louder_ , Traci; I don't think the boys heard you…" Thankfully it was late enough for the locker room to be empty. Sadly it wasn't empty  _enough._  She dropped her bag on the bench next to Andy and began to undress, banishing the encounter with Dov to the recesses of her mind.

Traci took the blonde's uniform from her locker and handed it to her. "You're not going to tell them?"

Ignoring the disapproving tone Gail took the clothes with a grateful nod. "Nope. I plan on being gone before anyone notices." She shifted her gaze between them pointedly as she tugged her pants on. "Which means I expect you two to keep your traps shut…" It didn't surprise her that Andy was already in the loop but that was as far as it had better go.

"You know, I never understood that," Andy volunteered into the awkwardness. "Wouldn't you  _have_  to be gone before anyone could  _notice_  you were?"

Gail shot the brunette a look. "You're really going to argue semantics with me right now?"

Andy dropped her gaze to her hands, knowing Gail probably blamed her for how bad things had gotten. "Gail, I'm sorry about…"

"Andy,  _don't._  I'm so tired of people apologizing to me." Especially for things that were her fault; it only made her feel worse. "Bet you never thought you'd hear me say that…"

Traci wasn't in the mood to joke around. "What happened to taking some time to think about it, Gail?" She automatically picked up the discarded clothes, folded them, and stacked them neatly on the shelf.

Eyebrow raised, both at her actions and her assumption, Gail finished buttoning up her shirt. "I don't know what conversation  _you_  were having but I never agreed to that."

Silly her for thinking Miss Obstinate might actually consider her advice.

Before Traci could respond Andy interjected, "So what did Frank say?"

Gail looked up from her boots to give them an arrogant grin. "He cried at the prospect of losing his best rookie; the man's not an idiot…"

Traci would have paid her back with a retort about how he was just worried about losing his 'meal ticket' if she weren't  _attempting_  to have a serious conversation. " _Gail_ …"

 _Gail_  was going to change her name just so she didn't have to hear it in that tone anymore. "He said we're in the middle of a cycle and he can't just let me go." Rifling through her bag she applied deodorant then found her elastic and bobby pins.

That gave Traci almost two weeks to try to get through to her. More out of curiosity than anything else she plucked the form from the bench while the blonde was too preoccupied to stop her. "Reason for request: moving?"  _Seriously?_

"There was no 'Get the hell out of Dodge' box," Gail shrugged. And it was technically true; she  _had_  just moved.

 _Of course._ Traci didn't point out that there was a 'Personal' box – Gail would barely admit to it verbally much less put it in writing. "But you didn't even put down what division you want to be transferred  _to_ …"

"Where I get transferred  _determines_  where I'm moving… See how that works out?" Snatching the paper from Traci's hands Gail thrust it into the bag then returned to doing her hair. "We'll just add it in when it's finalized." It would be like she'd known all along…

Traci leaned against the lockers with a sigh. Gail may have had all the logistical details figured out but love wasn't logical  _or_  so easily managed. She was doing an awful good job pretending it was, though… "How did it go with Chris?"

Inserting the final pin Gail scoffed, "How do you think it went? I feel like I spent a half hour kicking a puppy." The one puppy on the planet she actually cared about no less… It wasn't so much a joke as it was depressing.

Andy couldn't really offer any support; she knew painfully well what it felt like to be in Chris' shoes. Granted Gail hadn't cheated the way Luke had but she wasn't sure that made it hurt any less.

"He's going to be okay, Gail." Traci's words were as much for her own benefit as the blonde's. She had to believe that everything worked out the way it was meant to; it was the only thing that made their betrayals somewhat forgivable.

"I know he will," Gail allowed, putting her phone in her pants pocket and tossing everything else back in her bag to stuff in her locker. "You guys look out for each other." She'd meant it to be mocking but it had come out completely sincere. They really  _had_  made her soft…

Traci would tell her she was included in that but knew it would only be met with scepticism and resentment. Gail Peck didn't  _need_  anyone to look out for her,  _don't you know…_

Turning back to the girls Gail realized it was probably the last time she would be with them; hated how much the thought bothered her. Before she could have another mini-breakdown she shrugged into her coat and headed out. "We're late for parade."

Exchanging a resigned look with her best friend Traci pushed herself off the lockers.  _Twelve days._  Twelve days to convince the Ice Princess that being fallible didn't mean she deserved to be miserable. Twelve  _weeks_ wouldn't have made it feel less hopeless a mission…

Gail didn't check to make sure they were following; she was too busy telling herself that if she just made it through shift  _everything_  would be okay. It  _had_  to be that simple _;_ there was no other option.


	14. Chapter 14

Gail scanned the parade room from the doorway, eyes landing painfully on Chris. The room was full – everyone waiting for Frank to appear – but the seat next to her (ex) boyfriend stood empty, waiting for  _her_. Apparently news of the breakup hadn't traveled yet and the others were still respecting the status quo, either unaware of his self-conscious fidgeting or simply attributing it to Chris being Chris. Heart laden with guilt she was considering claiming the spot anyway when a touch to her elbow made her jump.

Andy followed the blonde's troubled gaze and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. " _I got this, okay?_ "

Nodding tightly Gail moved to hold up the wall next to the entrance. She watched as Andy slid into the chair beside Chris, released a breath after he turned to smile at her gratefully, managed to keep a blank expression while the rest of the room took notice and swiveled in near unison to locate her. Refrained from telling them all to  _get a fucking life_.

As soon as she'd walked in Dov had recognized the glassiness of her eyes that signaled she was just barely holding it together; when she became the focus of everyone's stares and her jaw noticeably clenched he couldn't take it anymore. He was halfway to standing when Traci caught his eye and subtly shook her head  _no_. Knowing she was right – that it would only make things worse – he slumped back down with a frustrated sigh.

Traci stood next to Gail, their arms pressing, offering support in a way the obstinate blonde would not only (maybe) accept but couldn't deny without being obvious. Thankfully Frank showed up and everyone turned their attention to him before she could give in to the temptation to spirit her friend from the room.

Gail tuned out the briefing, tuned out  _everything_ , and focused on the monitor where the division's sigil was proudly displayed. The division her family had been running for decades; the division she was running  _from_. The division she'd grown up in and the division she hadn't quite managed to grow back  _into_. The division that had been proclaimed her destiny before she'd been able to pronounce the word much less grasp what it  _meant_. And as fervently as she hated having everything decided for her – the chafing expectations that came with it especially – there was a part of her that couldn't bear to leave it behind. Not again. Not when she had a choice this time.

"Blondie, you're with me."

Traci's nudge to her shoulder made Gail shake herself loose from the memory. "I still have to hit the Tac room," she realized aloud, and for some reason her oversight made her want to cry again.

"Make it quick, Peck," Noelle advised evenly. "1509."

Dov caught up to them as they entered the hallway. "Noelle, switch with me."

Turning back Gail didn't even think before biting off, " _No_."

"I wasn't asking you." He hated taking the hard line with her but they needed to talk and she wasn't exactly leaving him many options.

Gail glared at him before shifting her attention to the older woman. "Noelle,  _no._ "

Noelle rolled her eyes. "This isn't revolving partners, people…" Of the last three shifts she'd been scheduled with Gail she'd only actually spent one of them with her; for someone so universally resented she sure was popular lately…

"Let the kids go, Noelle," Oliver cajoled, coming up to them, "They haven't been paired in weeks…" What he really meant was  _he'd_  barely been paired with anyone  _else_  for weeks and he needed a break from all the recent Deckstein drama.

 _Traitor._ Gail threw a betrayed pout his way.

"There's a reason for that," Noelle scolded with a glance at the blonde, well aware of the limitations she'd put on Frank. "And I'm getting a little tired of you guys acting like assignments are suggestions."

It only bothered her now because she was dating the Staff Sergeant; her newfound indignation was working in Gail's favor though so she wouldn't point it out. She  _did_ , however, raise an emphatic eyebrow at Dov.

Dov turned to his only ally. "Oliver…"

Oliver hushed the boy with a hand and pulled out the big guns: "I'll buy your dinner; whatever you want…" It was a small price to pay for a quiet shift. And maybe if the kids were stuck in a cruiser together for ten hours they'd resolve their issues…

 _So much for indignation._ The consideration on Noelle's face had Gail quickly counter-offering, "I'll buy your dinner  _and_ do all the paperwork…" Oliver  _loathed_ paperwork…

The blonde's voice was strangely pleading and for a split second Noelle saw everything she was trying so hard to hide. "Tell you what," she compromised, "we'll meet up for dinner."

Gail groaned. " _Noelle_ …"

"And you're still paying," she informed Oliver with a smirk.

"Noelle…" Being partnered was the only way Dov could guarantee Gail would listen; he wouldn't have another chance for almost a week.

Noelle narrowed her eyes at him. "Quiet before I make you do whatever it is on your own time." She'd heard the rumors – none of them painting him in a positive light – and if she  _were_  to take a side it wouldn't be his.

Oliver knew better than to think Noelle would change her mind, and Peck seemed ready to pitch a fit if she did. "Come on, Epstein."

Going to the source Dov gave her the most pitiful expression in his arsenal. "Gail,  _please._ "

Gail shook her head numbly and took off to get her gear before her resistance could crumble. Again. "I'll meet you at the car," she muttered over her shoulder to Noelle. Once she got to the Tac room she buried the urge to sit down, knowing if she did she wouldn't get up again, and quickly gathered what she needed. Making her way out to 1509 she tossed the duffel in the back seat before getting in.

"I don't know what's going on with you guys," Noelle told her lightly, "and I don't want to know – but you need to fix it. We get enough drama on the streets without having yours in the barn, and assignments shouldn't revolve around your social life…"

It wasn't really fair: Gail had never asked to switch partners once it was scheduled and it wasn't like she wanted her drama playing out at work, either. She didn't  _want_ drama at all. "I'm  _trying_  to fix it – you agreeing to dinner isn't exactly helping."

Noelle knew she was being hard on the girl, could tell the situation was weighing heavy on her, but it was only because she expected her to be better than that. Still, she wasn't heartless. "Okay."

"Okay?" Was she supposed to be grateful for her assent?

" _Okay_ : we won't meet them for dinner." Noelle couldn't very well tell her to drop the drama at work and then impose it on her.

 _Oh._  Gail was equal parts surprised and relieved. Focusing on the passing scenery she breathed, "Well, okay then…"

* * *

"Just coffee," Gail told the robust woman before going back to her notes from the last scene.

Noelle waited for the waitress to walk away. "You're not eating?" Normally she wouldn't think anything of it but now she was on alert.

"I'm watching my girlish figure." Even if she  _had_  been hungry there was no way she'd eat there; 'whatever you want' had ended up being some hole-in-the-wall diner that should have had a DPH warning posted on its door. If she hadn't been in such dire need of a boost she wouldn't even have trusted the coffee.

"It's Saturday," Noelle reminded her. "If some bar brawl breaks out you're going to need your strength…"

"I'll be fine." That's what she had a gun for… Accepting the cup from the waitress Gail downed half of it in one gulp. Other than searing her tongue and throat it had no effect, and she fleetingly wondered if Noelle would let her visit one of their CIs for an upper…

Leaning back in her chair Noelle took a sip of coffee and studied the girl. The lackluster eyes, paler than usual skin, and the worrying of her lip she probably wasn't even aware of. "You gonna tell me what's going on?"

That was the worst part of this whole thing – everyone seemed to think talking about it would make her problems go 'poof.' The only thing talking about it did was make it more real and Gail less in control. "I thought you didn't care?"

"I've been told I do," Noelle explained with a shrug. She really  _did_  but there was no need for the blonde to know that.

So that was the secretive call she'd taken earlier. "Frank needs to let it go…"

Noelle moved her cup so the waitress could set her plate down. "He's worried, Peck. Says you want to transfer out…" The situation was tough to get a read on, the details fuzzy. It didn't help that Gail was more the type to have  _the boys_  transferred out if they weren't getting along.

She wanted a lot of things – that was just the one  _he_  could help with. Her mother might have said the job was ninety percent luck, ten percent timing (ever the diplomat), but watching her had taught Gail that it was sixty percent who you knew and forty percent how you used them. Scribbling in her pad she told Noelle definitively, "I'm not talking about this." They weren't friends, just colleagues, and if she had her way (and she  _would_ ) after today they wouldn't even be that. Suddenly she was kicked under the table and her head shot up. " _Seriously_?"

Rolling her eyes at the attitude Noelle motioned behind the blonde.

"Gail?"

And her day just kept getting better and better… Gail stifled a groan as Sue came into view. "Sue," she nodded acknowledgment. "Noelle, you remember Sue Tran: ETF, Dov's girlfriend." It was karma for the Samuels thing, she was sure of it…

It was just this side of courteous, and if you didn't know Gail you probably wouldn't have heard the underlying wariness in her voice. "Hi."

Sue smiled politely at the other woman before turning back to Gail. "Can we talk?"

Noelle anticipated a typical Gail response, like 'Yes, we  _can_  – it's what separates us from the rest of the animals' or maybe 'We  _are_ talking – it happened when you said something and I said something back…' She was surprised (disappointed?) when the blonde simply nodded.

Gail stood and put on her coat. "I'll be back in a minute. Enjoy your…" Wrinkling her nose she waved a hand at the slop on Noelle's plate. "…whatever the hell that is."

How come  _she_  got the snark? Noelle watched curiously as Gail led Sue outside.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets for warmth Sue justified, "I didn't want to bother you at work but you're not taking my calls…"

"I've been busy." Gail didn't owe her an explanation – they weren't  _even_  colleagues.

"I  _heard_ …" It was out of Sue's mouth before she could stop it, though she probably wouldn't have even if she'd been able.

There was a tinge of resentment in the girl's voice and Gail's lips twitched into an unintentional smirk. "I'm  _still_  busy…"

There was no love lost between them but apparently they weren't even going to  _pretend_  to be civil. Getting straight to the point (if a bit tentatively) Sue asked, "What's going on with you and Dov?"

Gail raised a disparaging eyebrow. "Don't you think that's a question for your boyfriend?" She'd never understood the mentality of going after the other woman (or man); as far as she was concerned the only one who owed you any loyalty was the person you were with. Then again her relationship experience pretty much consisted of her first and last boyfriends so what did she know…

At the beginning Sue  _had_  asked him, confused by their dynamic and the blonde's unwarranted scorn. "He said there's nothing going on."  _Gail doesn't like_ _ **anyone**_ _; it's her thing._

 _Smart boy._  "Then why are you here?" Gail prompted, adding derisively, "Not that I don't cherish this time together…" Whatever Sue had heard she obviously hadn't gotten all the details and Gail was in no mood to enlighten her.

"I don't believe him," Sue admitted. She  _wanted_ to, had been burying her doubts for a while, but after last night…

Gail shrugged. "I don't blame you; I don't believe half the stuff that comes out of his mouth, either…" It was what she  _had_  believed that had gotten her into trouble.

 _Seriously?_  "That's your answer?" Was that  _even_  an answer?

The girl actually sounded surprised. "What? You thought you'd come down here and I'd confess to having a torrid affair while my boyfriend slept in the next room?" Gail didn't know which assumption was more offensive: that she would  _do_  it or that she'd  _admit_  to it.

Sue sighed. "I don't think you're sleeping together, Gail." She didn't know exactly  _what_  was going on but she hadn't gotten where she was by being naïve.

"Well, that's a relief…" Gail blew out an exaggerated puff of air, "I was worried your opinion of me had suffered…"

The blonde was easier to deal with if you ignored half the stuff that came out of  _her_  mouth, Sue had learned. "I know he was with you last night…" Chris had called looking for him when he'd gone MIA; she'd just happened to call Chris back for an update while he was waiting at the bar. For them.

"And?" Waving a hand Gail dismissed, "We went to the arcade; it's hardly an indictable offense…"

Even if it was true it didn't change anything; made it  _worse_ , actually. "Then he was at an arcade with  _you_  when he was supposed to be moving in with  _me_ ," Sue summarized quietly. "I'm pretty sure that's like chapter one of 'He's Just Not That Into You.'"

Gail disregarded the tightening in her chest that might have been mistaken for compassion. "Sue, I'm not your mother, or your sister; I'm not even one of your little girlfriends…" After a beat she finished condescendingly, "I'm not going to indulge you just because you're insecure in your relationship."

 _Indulge?_  Sue lost her temper, hissing, "Can you stop being a complete bitch for two minutes and just be  _human?_  Can you do  _that_?"

So kitty  _did_  have claws; it was about time they came out… Gail glanced at her watch with a wry, "Two minutes starts now."

She might have just been mocking her but Sue started anyway, running a hand through her hair. "He didn't come home at all last night, Gail, and he's not answering my calls. I need to know if I'm fighting a losing battle here…" When he'd started spending so much time at her place she'd thought it was the natural progression of their relationship; took the next step and asked him to move in. Last night made her think him accepting her offer was less about  _them_  than it was about Gail, and Sue wasn't stupid enough to think she stood a chance if he was already in love with someone else. Even  _if_  that someone else was the worst kind of unavailable.

Gail bit her lip absentmindedly. She could either level with the girl, woman to woman, or do what she needed to do to ensure Dov wasn't left alone. It wasn't a tough decision. "Look, it's just cold feet, okay? Dov's commitment shy. He grew up in a broken home – knows what it did to him and his brother – and he's afraid he's doomed to repeat history." She'd originally written off his 'divorce sucks' speech as immature petulance, had wanted to tell him that your parents staying together didn't guarantee sunshine and rainbows; it wasn't until she found out about Adam she'd realized it went much deeper than simply feeling neglected.

It was entirely possible given what little Sue knew of his past, making her wonder if she hadn't just let Chris' paranoia get to her. Still, she was skeptical. "It's just moving in together…"

Shaking her head Gail clarified, "It's the first step towards marriage, and Dov doesn't have faith in marriage…"  _I'd marry you. I would._  The memory had surfaced uninvited, taunting her with the significance of the words and the conviction with which he'd said them, and she couldn't even breathe for the sudden lump in her throat.

While the blonde coughed into the chilly air Sue mulled the revelation over. "But…"

"There's no 'but,'" Gail interrupted hoarsely, anxious for the conversation to end. "Fears are rarely rational, Sue. If you want this to work – and I think you do otherwise you wouldn't be here – then you need to be patient with him; give him time to get over his fears." Time to get over  _her_.

Sue blinked, no idea what just happened. Coming into this she'd expected Gail to be flip and uncooperative.  _Check_. She'd expected the exchange to be mentally and emotionally draining.  _Double Check._ But she'd also kind of expected the blonde to claim her territory and throw a secret romance, fact or fiction, in her face.  _Not Check._  This earnest advice – what amounted to  _endorsement_  – was throwing her for a loop. "You still haven't answered the question…"

 _Kill me now._ Obviously the girl was going to need a little more convincing; an explanation that was not only believable but that she'd  _want_  to believe. "He was on an all-night date with you while I was quite possibly dying from a horrible disease, remember?" Gail told herself the hint of bitterness was manufactured like it was meant to be. "There's nothing going on with me and Dov."

The inflection had Sue tilting her head pensively.

"But that won't stop me from hunting you down and kicking your ass if you hurt him…" It was hypocritical, considering what she was doing to both him and Chris, but they were  _her_ boys and it was her prerogative; just because she was giving them up didn't mean they weren't still under her protection.

Sue pulled out of her muddled thoughts to counter, "You know what I do for a living, right? Even if I  _was_  planning on hurting him – which I'm not – I'm not that easy to take down…"

 _Good girl._ "I never said I'd fight  _fair_ ," Gail pointed out with a smug smile, feeling some sort of kinship with the brunette for the first time. "You know, Sue, under different circumstances I think we might have gotten along."

The smile seemed forced, the statement wistful, and the pieces Sue had been shuffling in her mind clicked into place. "If you weren't in love with my boyfriend?" she guessed calmly.

Claws  _and_  brains. Granted she'd just drawn the conclusion she'd been led to but the fact that she'd caught on at all put her miles ahead of any of Dov's other girlfriends. When she found out about the breakup she'd (rightfully) assume it was related, so as long as Dov could keep Chris from telling her the rest they'd be fine… Making her way to the diner's door Gail breezily corrected, " _If_  I actually got along with people…"

Sue had never thought she'd feel sorry for the high and mighty Gail Peck but there she was. "Gail…" When the blonde turned back she added hesitantly, "Thanks." For  _what_  she didn't know, but it felt right.

 _Thank me by taking care of him…_  Aloud she said, "Don't mention it," before entering the building. She paused only a second to compose herself before returning to the table.

Noelle watched her partner sit and immediately pull out her cell phone. "What was that about?"

"She wanted my recipe for lasagna," Gail explained without looking up.

"She tracked you down for a  _recipe_?" The disbelief was palpable.

Sparing her a glance Gail offered, "She's dating Dov – clearly the girl's got issues."

The blonde had returned to her texting and Noelle narrowed her eyes, semi-insulted. "You've got no  _issues_  lying to my face, do you?"

Gail hit 'send' then stuck the phone in her coat pocket with a shrug. "You've got no issues getting in my business…"

Noelle groaned and motioned to the waitress for the check. It was going to be a long and very frustrating night…


	15. Chapter 15

Dov's phone chirped and, ignoring Oliver's exaggerated groan, he pulled it out of his pocket to check the text.

"You know you're going to have to talk to her eventually…" Avoiding her was only going to make her more suspicious. And him more of a yellow-bellied jerk...

"It's not Sue," Dov sighed, holding it out so his partner could see.

' _Talk to Sue. And don't fuck it up.'_  Oliver turned his attention back to the road. "Yeah – that's not good."

"Ya think?" The randomness of it could only mean one thing: his girlfriend had given up on him and gone directly to his paramour. Not knowing how to respond (absolutely certain he wasn't  _supposed_  to, except maybe with ' _ja, mein führer_ ') Dov put the phone away with an incredulous, "Yesterday she didn't even want me  _moving_  out and now she's  _pimping_  me out…" Just when he thought she couldn't possibly get any more mystifying she found a new and completely unexpected way to blow his mind…

"I don't think it can be called pimping if it's your girlfriend," Oliver pointed out wryly. "And seeing as she still  _is_ your girlfriend maybe Peck's got more sense than you do…" Not that there was ever any doubt.

Trust Oliver to be the voice of (uncomfortable) reason when Dov didn't really want one. " _Disapproval duly noted…_ "

It was Oliver's turn to sigh. "I just don't get why you involved the girl in your all your drama in the first place." It was semi-rhetorical – he knew  _why_  the boy had done it, just not how he  _could_  given he was hung up on someone else. In all their (many) conversations about the situation Sue had barely come up at all; she certainly deserved better than that.

Bracing his elbow against the window Dov dropped his head onto his hand. "I thought I was gonna blow up. She asked me out. It was a welcome distraction at the time." From more than just the bomb…

"And here I was, worried you didn't have a  _good_  reason…" Oliver derided, resisting the urge to smack the boy.

"I wasn't going to go  _through_  with it," Dov defended hotly. "But then Gail confused the hell out of me and I was considering stabbing my best friend in the back and I had to try  _something_ to get over her…" Her reaction hadn't really helped:  _She hit on you while you were standing on a bomb? Wow – between her lack of professionalism and your lack of good sense you two are gonna have some pretty ineffectual kids…_  Which had made him wonder what  _their_ kids would be like and then he'd  _really_ needed a distraction.

Oliver pulled the cruiser into the restaurant's lot. "Good job. Worked really well…"

The sarcasm wasn't as bad as the disapproval but it still wasn't appreciated _._  "It  _did._ " At least temporarily. "I'm on my date with Sue, it's going great, but as soon as I hear about the lockdown I'm on the phone and we're out the door."  _It's nothing, Dov. Go enjoy your date; you don't know when_ _ **her**_ _good sense is gonna kick in…_  In hindsight her not thinking to ask why he'd called her and not Chris should have tipped him off that it wasn't 'nothing' at all.

They obviously had very different definitions of 'worked.' "And?"

Dov informed dispatch they were taking dinner then followed the older man out of the car. "We get to the house and it's quarantined. And it hits me: she's in there with Chris and I'm out here with Sue; I can't get to her even if I try. She's  _literally_ off limits. Can't ask for a clearer sign than that…"

"Were you looking for one?" Oliver inquired carefully as they made their way to the building.

"No." If he had been he would've ran with Chris' suggestion of going after what they wanted. "But you can't exactly ignore a giant kick in the teeth from the universe. I swore I was  _done_." Running a hand though his hair he sighed, "Sue was amazing that night, you know? Smart  _and_  hot: the best kind of sexy. She helped us with the case, no hesitation. No  _complaining_. And I thought if anyone could help me move on it was her…"

" _And_?" Oliver was still waiting for the part where it had worked. Snagging two menus he led the boy to a table.

The universe had obviously had other plans; plans which included telling him to move on but not  _letting_  him _…_  "I got home and Chris and Gail were curled up on the couch with the TV on, but she was asleep and he was just  _watching_  her like she'd disappear if he didn't. When he told me what happened, how scared she was, I…" There weren't even words to describe everything he'd felt in that moment. She'd stood outside in the cold for hours for him and he'd been off… he couldn't even have told you  _what_ he'd been doing, his thoughts a maelstrom of regrets and resentments. "I would have stormed the barn if I'd known…"

Yeah,  _that_ would have gone over well with the brass. "So you're back at square one – and you know it – yet you  _keep_ dating her…" Oliver flipped through the menu even though he knew it by heart and never ordered anything other than the house burger.

Dov didn't even bother opening his. "It's not that I don't like her… I  _do_." That Gail  _didn't_  was just an added bonus _._  "When we were alone it was pretty good; I could put Gail out of my mind and pretend I was right where I wanted to be."

Oliver was getting whiplash. Handing his menu to Shannon he asked her for his usual. "You're going around in circles; you know that, right?" Flip-flopping like a fish at the bottom of the boat…

Ordering the same Dov turned back to his partner. "How do you think I  _felt_?" How many times had he convinced himself he was happy only to crash back down to reality? And typically by his own doing… "I knew we could be okay on our own but I kept finding excuses to bring her to the apartment; told Gail it was payback for making me put up with  _her_ …"  _Dov, if you move her in here I_ _ **swear**_ _I will smother you both in your sleep. Don't think I won't – I wouldn't even need to hide the bodies…_

"When really you wanted to get a rise out of her…" Oliver supplied knowingly. "I get it, kid – I've been there." Hell, most of the guys on the force  _still_  pulled that crap with at least five years on him. Didn't make it right, though. "But keeping Sue as backup until you can win Peck over? Not a real classy move…"

Dov swallowed a pill and chased it with water, wishing he could have something stronger. "I'm  _not_. I just…" Before he'd known winning Gail over was  _possible_  he'd had his doubts about being able to make things work but he'd been willing to try; now there wasn't a hope in hell. "What am I supposed to say to Sue? 'Remember when you asked me point blank and I said there was nothing going on? Well, I _lied_. I've been betraying you, and my best friend, by obsessing after the most hated most envied girl at the 15. And I'm pretty sure I only agreed to move in with you to see what she'd say…'"

"Uh… I don't think you need to be that honest." A simple 'this isn't working' would probably suffice  _and_  be less hurtful. As an afterthought Oliver added, "Or quite so pathetic…"

His 'pathetic'ness had been cemented the moment 'she's not you' had left his lips; with 'luck of the soul' and 'possibility of anything' he'd traveled beyond pathetic into the realm of pitiable. "She's completely ruined me for other women," he realized with a moan.

Oliver scrunched up his nose in sympathy. "Don't tell  _her_  that – she'll just say you were already ruined…" Peck wasn't exactly the type to take it as a compliment.

 _Hey – don't blame me 'cause I'm awesome and you're… well,_ _ **you**_ _._  She wasn't even there and she was insulting him… "Remember when I was a player?"

It was wistful, like he actually believed it, and Oliver's eyebrow raised skeptically. "I remember when you  _pretended_ to be a player…" As did the rest of the house.

Dov's lips fell into an indignant pout. "Hey! I dated a  _stripper_ …" Pointing a finger inward he proclaimed, "I was  _The Man_."

"Yeah?" Oliver countered, "Well, 'The Man' got himself put on  _probation_  for a stripper…" He smiled at Shannon when she put his plate in front of him. "Thanks, doll."

Once she'd deposited their food and walked away Dov waved an indignant fry at his partner. "That's not the point."

Oliver dug into his burger, muttering "What  _is_  the point?" around a mouthful of meat and bun.

Reminded of another conversation Dov dropped the fry back onto his plate with a sigh. "When Edie broke up with me I was upset – she was sweet and she needed me – but not because I had this grand future planned out for us, you know? After my parents split and Adam…" He stopped to take a breath and refocus his thoughts. "…Adam took it so hard I decided the white picket fence just wasn't for me. As much as I cared about my girlfriends settling down and starting a family was never even a consideration." He'd rather not have kids at all than risk putting them through what he and his brother had been through.

It didn't take a psychic to see where the boy was headed so Oliver just kept eating.

"Enter Gail Peck: rarely sweet,  _never_  needy, and I've got no claim to her other than being her preferred sparring partner. Yet I can't imagine my life without her, and suddenly I've got  _everything_ planned out." Skipping the part of his fantasy where he traitorously (laboriously) stole her from his best friend and they dealt with the fallout Dov revealed, "She'll want to work undercover, probably human trafficking, but between all the publicity crap her parents force on her and her not-so-forgettable face it would be too risky, so she'll settle for Special Victims and I'll join Sex Crimes so we can stay together. By then I'll have convinced her to make an honest man out of me and I'll be working on changing her mind about kids…"

He was more pathetic than Oliver had even suspected. Before the boy could narrate the next forty years he broke in, "Ah – the joy of falling in love: having your entire world turned upside down." Been there, done that; wouldn't change it for anything.

Taking the hint Dov pulled himself from the reverie to pick at his food. "Except it's never going to happen. I'd almost rather she stayed with Chris, you know? But no,  _she'd_  rather be alone, and I can't get her to tell me what the hell she's thinking. It just doesn't make sense…"

Women rarely did, but that was a lesson the kid would have to learn on his own. "Did I ever tell you who my Staff Sergeant was when I was a rookie?"

Dov blinked at the change of subject. "I didn't know they  _had_ Staff Sergeants when you were a rookie," he marveled. "What was that? Like fifty years ago?"

" _Fifteen_ , smartass," Oliver corrected lightly, "and just for that I'm not finishing my story." There was just no respect anymore; back in the day a comment like that would have landed you a note in your file. He knew from experience.

"Sorry. Reminisce away…" Oliver was captive audience to most of his babbling; the least Dov could do was return the favor. Still, he couldn't resist one last jab: "Did you guys have communications back then or did you send out APBs by carrier pigeon?"

Oliver barked a fake laugh. "Were you always this funny or has Peck's 'charm' rubbed off on you?"

"The charm is all Epstein," Dov assured him with a forced grin. "It's her candor that rubbed off…"

It hadn't been meant as a compliment, though Oliver couldn't deny how much like him the boy was, irreverence and all. " _Anyway_ ," he sighed, "When  _I_ started at the 15 Bill 'the Bull' Peck was SSG and little Lucy was his shadow. If she wasn't at school she was at the barn, learning the family business."

"Wait…" Holding up a hand Dov asked the obvious, "Who the hell is Lucy?" Did Gail have an 'Adam'?

It didn't surprise Oliver that  _Gail_  wasn't much of a sharer. "That snarky blonde you can't seem to get over or  _with_. Not really a blonde, by the way…"

Dov's brow furrowed. "You called her Lucy?"

"It's how we knew her; Bill told me it was for short for…" Oliver wracked his brain but couldn't find the word. "…I don't know, but it was foreign for nightingale." After a few  _more_  drinks the man had shared that Elaine loathed it because she'd named her for  _gales_ , as in powerful winds, not 'some bird that wouldn't shut up.' Oliver had thought they both applied: a force to be reckoned with even then and always singing some song under her breath.

Okay, now Dov was really confused. "You never said you knew her…" You'd think it would have come up over the last year…

Oliver shrugged, picking at his fries. "She didn't recognize me and I didn't feel like being called a creepy old man…"

It was a fair assumption – she wouldn't have said anything to his face but knowing Gail she'd have been thinking it.  _Loudly_. Though she'd never seemed to mind the nickname Oliver had given her, and it occurred to Dov maybe it wasn't new at all. " _Bright Eyes_?"

"Don't say it like that," Oliver quickly admonished through a bite of burger. "You make it sound perverted and it wasn't." Swallowing the mouthful he explained, "Her whole face used to light up whenever she did something she was proud of. You think her eyes are bright now?"

Dov had been lucky enough to see it a few times, his favorite being at the arcade, but it was more than a little weird that Oliver had. "I've been talking about her for over a week and you're just  _now_  telling me you've known her for fifteen years?"

The accusatory tone had Oliver tersely explaining, "Okay,  _one_ : I haven't known her for fifteen years, I knew her for two years fifteen ago. Two: It's always been about your sad-sack infatuation with your best friend's girlfriend; only yesterday did I find out she had anything to do with it. Three: I didn't make the connection until she broke up with Chris. And four: Are you going to shut up and listen or not? 'Cause I'm not doing this for my sake…"

It seemed he'd hit a nerve – that maybe there was another reason Oliver had never brought it up – and Dov decided to proceed with caution. Taking a bite of burger he forced his tone casual. "What was she like?"

The question was predictable, the answer being why Oliver had broached the subject in the first place, but he found he didn't really want to take that particular trip down memory lane. Moving his empty plate to the edge of the table he leaned back in his chair and motioned Shannon for more coffee. "A lot like she is now, I guess. Smart, perceptive; watched interrogations like they were cartoons and played people like they were fiddles. Had Bill wrapped around her little finger…" Until he'd had his own girls Oliver had never  _seen_  a child more doted on, and had she ever used it to her advantage. More than once he'd picked her up from school only to end up at the ice cream parlor buying her a slushie. Always large, always lime, 'cause it stained her mouth the least.

Finally something that  _didn't_ surprise Dov. "Good to know she was always a manipulative pain-in-the-ass…"

Shaking his head Oliver clarified, "Manipulative, yeah, but she was like the 15's mascot. Some houses have a dog; we had a pint-sized trainee who hung off our every word." He took a breath and got to the relevant part: "The kid didn't have any friends – they kept her too focused, isolated – but if you'd ask her about it she'd say she didn't  _need_  any because she had you." That it had been a blatant ploy to garner loyalty hadn't kept it from being damned depressing.

They'd always assumed Gail's tendency to hang around the older officers was her sucking up; Dov was starting to wonder if maybe she wasn't just more comfortable with them because she'd never had a chance to  _get_  comfortable with people her own age… It put an altogether gloomy spin on the many occasions she'd opted out of spending time with the other rookies. "So what happened?" If Oliver had only known her for two years the 15 had obviously lost its 'mascot'…

Oliver sighed. "Collins promoted Elaine to Constable; she had more free time so she came down to the barn more. The kid got quieter, spent more time in Bill's office studying the manuals than with us." Stopped singing under her breath… "One thing never changed, though: she'd convinced one of the guys to teach her how to play poker – paperclips instead of money – and we played whenever Bill wasn't around. She refused to give it up because she liked showing off her deductive skills. She always was a show off…"

"She doesn't play anymore," Dov volunteered. Whenever  _they_  did she just ruffled Chris' hair and flounced off with a dismissive 'Have fun, delinquents…'

That didn't surprise Oliver. "One morning there was a white-shirt meeting so a couple of us went in before shift for a game. For the first time ever a meeting ended early and Elaine came back down with Bill…" He paused while Shannon picked up their empty dishes. "She completely flipped. Went off on us, and him, about how she was raising a future Chief and not some shiftless delinquent. Did we ever feel sorry for Bill; back then the walls of the office weren't glass but the room hadn't been soundproof, either…" The Bull had been quite thoroughly reduced to a castrated calf in front of his men.

Dov had just thought she'd considered poker beneath her (like a lot of things, her fellow rookies included) and it made him question how many of her opinions were actually her mother's. Between her paralysis the day of the open house and Andy's assessment that she was afraid of the woman he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. "What did she do to Gail?"

"Nothing that I know of." Oliver wouldn't give all the details, just enough to get the point across; the woman was still Dov's boss and knowing the boy he wouldn't be able to hide his contempt. "But she was pretty traumatized. I think she was thirteen, and she just sat there and listened to it all looking guilty. Wouldn't even talk to us; just answered everything with a sad nod or shake of the head." It had broken his heart, and right there he'd made a promise to himself that when he and Zoë had kids they would never  _ever_  fight in front of them. "After a good twenty minutes of yelling Elaine came out with a smile plastered on her face like nothing had happened and took the kid back upstairs with her." Hadn't even held out a hand, just said 'Gail,  _come_ ,' and the young Peck had scampered after her like an Irish Setter after a ball. He'd never hated anyone quite as much as he had Elaine Peck in that moment.

The underlying anger in Oliver's voice told Dov there was more to the story than he was sharing; the only thing that kept him from demanding to know everything was that he didn't really  _want_  to know. The little bits Gail had told him hadn't even begun to describe the disturbing picture forming in his head and he didn't think he'd be able to restrain himself if he knew more. "She never came back?" he guessed as he paid the bill.

Oliver smiled at Shannon until she left and they stood to leave. "Nope; a squad car still picked her up from school but she always went straight to the offices. Not long after Bill was promoted – Elaine's version of punishment I guess – and we didn't see him anymore, either." The officers who were at the game were taken off 'Lucy' duty, and he only ever saw her at division functions after that, each time colder and more arrogant than the last. "We were the only friends that poor kid had and Elaine didn't hesitate to completely cut her off from us…"

Dov would wonder how Gail managed to hide it all but it was pretty clear she hadn't had much choice.  _Adapt or perish._  "That was back then, though. She had friends at the Academy…" Snotty rich kids, the children of other cops, but still.

"Are you sure?" Oliver was doubtful – Pecks were much more likely to make allies and underlings than friends, and she hadn't seemed very sociable when she'd gotten to the 15…

After a moment of deliberation Dov admitted, "Well, no…" He may come from money but he didn't have the blue blood required to infiltrate that clique.

Oliver nodded, theory intact. "I think 'alone' is probably her default setting and you and Chris were lucky to get close at all. Now that it's blown up in her face,  _again_ , she's going back to what she knows. Can't have people taken away if you give them up first…"

That was… incredibly morose. "You make her sound so messed up…"  _More_  messed up than he'd even begun to process, Dov meant.

He had  _met_  the girl he was in love with, right? "That whole family is in need of some serious help. I didn't even know they  _had_  another kid until he showed up a rookie, they put all their focus on her." Oliver attributed it to Elaine's single-minded obsession with another Peck female taking the male-dominated field by storm and Bill's preoccupation with his only daughter; their son seemed to be no more than a vehicle to continue the family name. "I think Steven only joined up to try to prove something to his parents, maybe get some attention, and I don't think they even cared; just fast-tracked him to Guns and Gangs. He's probably just as messed up as she is…" By all appearances the guy loved his baby sister but there was an undercurrent of resentment there to anyone who cared to notice. Given the opportunity Oliver suspected they'd switch places in a heartbeat.

Dov couldn't decide whether he felt bad enough for Steve to forgive his part in the breakup or disliked him even more for instigating it to punish Gail for something she had no control over. It wasn't his priority though so he put the debate on hold once they were in the cruiser. "Okay, so how the hell am I supposed to convince her she's  _not_ better off alone?" Getting Gail to change her mind about something was akin to trying to move a mountain.

"Careful, kid," Oliver warned after he'd advised dispatch they were back. "Even if I'm right you don't know who she  _wants_  to be with; maybe this thing with you just has her running scared from Diaz." Last year when he'd joked that Deckstein would have a threesome he'd never imagined they actually  _would_ , emotional or otherwise.

"Thanks for the support," Dov muttered sarcastically, "but I'm more worried about her right now. Going back to what she knows isn't exactly working for her…" Her little breakdown was proof enough of that.

There was no doubt the boy loved her – it was glaringly obvious and maybe a little nauseating – but that he could put her well-being before his own feelings was the true testament. It was far more than Oliver had been capable of at that age, and it was the one thing he was glad they  _weren't_  alike on. "Well, how'd you manage to weasel your way past her defenses the first time?"

"I don't know – accidentally?" He didn't even think  _she_  knew how he'd done it, which was probably why she was so hell-bent on keeping him away now. Heaving a sigh he suggested, "Maybe Traci can get through to her; she hasn't pushed her away yet…" No more than usual, anyway.

That was a friendship Oliver hadn't seen coming but wouldn't question, Nash's calming maternal influence something Peck was sorely lacking. He doubted she'd cut herself off from the boys and keep a relationship with the girl, though. "Piece of advice? Don't make the mistake of assuming that just because Peck can't hide it all there isn't a lot she  _is_  hiding. She has a hell of a poker face…"

Muting the song that was suddenly playing in his head Dov reminded him, "She didn't this morning. Granted it only lasted two seconds…"

Oliver shook his head, deadly serious. "I'm telling you, kid: that girl's mother turned her into an automaton; if she let you see her really upset –  _even_  for two seconds – then it's beyond bad." It just meant the cup was running over, and not in the good way.

Dov took a few minutes to let everything sink in before voicing, "Not that I don't appreciate the insight into the dysfunction that is Gail Peck but I don't really feel any better…"

Neither did Oliver but he'd done all he could. "I'm not here to make you feel better; I'm here to get paid. It just so happens that getting paid means listening to you blather on about Peck for ten hours."

"I'm not that bad," Dov argued automatically, though he knew he probably  _was_. He would add that it wasn't his fault he'd fallen for the most complicated disturbed woman in division history (Peck senior not withstanding) but it probably  _was_  his fault because he'd  _never_  done anything the easy way.

"Seven hours, then," Oliver allowed facetiously. "Sometimes we actually work…"

Dov ignored the jab to study his partner. "Can I ask you something?"

Oliver groaned. "Does it have to do with Peck?" He'd had enough of that topic for one day.

Shaking his head Dov continued without confirmation, "How come you're still a beat cop?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing…" Oliver noted dryly.

Dov hadn't meant to offend him. "No, it's just… fifteen years is a long time."

Leaning forward in the driver's seat Oliver waved a hand at the world outside the windshield. "Serve and protect, Epstein; that's what  _we_  do, not those paper-pushers who sit in their offices all day making regulations about streets they only ever see if it's a photo op."

"There's other squads," Dov pointed out. He didn't see himself as a white-shirt either but that didn't mean he planned on 'walking' the beat forever. "You've never been tempted to move up? Become a detective? Better hours, sweeter money. More respect…" That was what bothered him the most: the widespread lack of deference shown to the uniform.

Oliver couldn't say he'd never been tempted – by a stable schedule especially – but he'd decided not to tempt the fates. "Dov, I'm a simple man. I married my soul mate, had a couple of amazing daughters; my girls are happy and healthy and  _they_ respect me. That's all I need."

"Wow…" Dov breathed, "you really are a big 'ole sap…" It was more admiration than condemnation, with just a hint of sadness mixed in. He knew what  _he_  needed, it was right there in front of him, yet it had never felt so incredibly far beyond his reach.

"The biggest," Oliver admitted readily, glancing at Dov. "Secret to a happy life, remember?"  _That_ , and staying far away from Jilly's…

Somehow Dov didn't think being a hopeless romantic was the key to Gail's heavily fortified heart but it was a nice sentiment all the same. He stared out the window a while, contemplating his options and his odds, when a completely random thought hit him and he turned to look at Oliver curiously. "Hey… do you guys open your presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning?"

Oliver  _really_ needed a partner who didn't talk so much.


	16. Chapter 16

It was close to midnight when Gail snuck into the house, cringing at the loud chirp of the alarm as she quickly disarmed it and locked the door behind her.

"Gail, is that you?"

Releasing the breath she'd (futilely) been holding Gail made her way to the stairs. "Yeah, mom. I'm just gonna…"

"I'm in my office…"

… _go to bed._  Gail dropped her bags at the foot of the staircase with a sigh and trudged to the study where her mother was occupying the big desk. "I was just gonna turn in; it's been a long day."

Elaine looked up to find her daughter hovering in the doorway. Motioning to the chair in front of her she noted, "Your shift ended two hours ago…"

Gail took the seat, knowing full well the words were more accusation than support of her statement. "We got a call on our way back to the barn. Domestic." It had still been too early for a bar brawl but it was  _never_  too early for some drunk asshole to beat his wife and kid. If it had been anyone other than the level-headed and authoritative Noelle with her Gail wouldn't have  _needed_ to transfer, she would have been out of a job. And consequently disowned.

Clucking her tongue sympathetically – she'd always hated domestics – Elaine leaned back in her chair. "I had Estella come in to fix up your room."

Their housekeeper must have  _loved_  being summoned on her day off to open windows and change sheets. "I could have done it myself."

"Nonsense," Elaine declared. "It's what we pay her for."

Gail was too tired to argue; so tired she probably wouldn't even have made the bed anyway. Taking in the eerie calm of the house she asked, "Dad asleep already?"

"He's out with the boys," Elaine shared, then lifted a pointed eyebrow. "Maybe if you made more of an effort to see him at work he would have made more of an effort to be here to welcome you home…"

 _Maybe if he wasn't married to an emasculating shrew he wouldn't feel the need to escape at every opportunity…_  Equally plausible and yet they would never know for sure. Aloud Gail countered, "You don't pay  _me_ to socialize at work." Everyone already thought she got special treatment – there was no need to be seen cozying up to the on-site 2IC.

The eyebrow became disapproving. "Don't be cute. It wouldn't kill you to go say hi before shift every once in a while…" Honestly, the girl treated her father like a complete stranger when she should have been using the connection to her advantage.

Gail's chest tightened with guilt. It wouldn't  _kill_  her, no, but it was one of those things she'd just rather not deal with. And it wasn't something she cared to examine or explain. "You're right."

"I'm always right, dear," Elaine corrected with an indulgent smile. "If you would just  _accept_  that and listen to me it would be much easier on us both." The problem with raising a strong independent woman was that the more effectively you did it the increasingly difficult she became to govern; a catch-22 of sorts…

"Yes, mother," Gail dutifully agreed, only a touch of disdain coloring her words. "You weren't waiting up for me, were you?"  _You shouldn't have…_

Elaine shook her head. "No. Some of our jobs don't end just because we've left the office." Gesturing to the files strewn across the desktop as evidence she stood. "But seeing as we're both up I think a cup of tea is in order…"

 _More like 'an' order._  Didn't stop Gail from putting up a token resistance in the form of a groaned, " _Mom_ …"

"Don't 'mom' me…" Elaine interrupted smoothly, circling the desk. "I've barely seen you since you moved out. And you still owe me for that little stunt you pulled at the open house…" Passing her daughter she chided, "Really, Gail? Sending your boyfriend to lie for you? If I wasn't so used to your unreliability I would have been hurt."

Gail knew her 'unreliability' came from the awards ceremony she hadn't shown up for; knew her mom  _was_ hurt no matter what she said. Couldn't bring herself to care. "You know I hate public speaking," she defended, reluctantly getting up and following Elaine to the kitchen.

"How many times have I told you?" Elaine sighed as she put the kettle on the burner, "You're never going to get anywhere until you get over that silly fear of yours…" Between conferences, meetings, and appearances, public speaking was half their job.

Falling onto the bench in the breakfast nook Gail huffed, "Can going over my many shortcomings wait until morning?" Not that she hadn't expected it but she'd really prefer to skip that part of the tender reunion, at least for tonight.

Elaine leaned back against the counter to study her daughter, noting for the first time the appearance of utter exhaustion. "I set up a spa afternoon for us tomorrow: massages, facials, 'cures. I even made an appointment at the hair salon. When we're done you'll feel like a completely different person…"

Gail wasn't even fazed by the implication that she should  _want_  to feel like a completely different person; she might actually have been looking forward to it. "Thanks."

The kettle hissed and Elaine poured their tea, bringing the cups to the table and sitting across from her daughter. "So what happened with Chris?"

Of course she remembered his name  _now_  when there was no longer a reason to keep him feeling insignificant and off-balance… Steeping the teabag Gail dismissed, "We just wanted different things."

Elaine added a little honey to her cup before raising it gracefully to her lips. "I wasn't aware you  _wanted_ anything; you seemed perfectly content with things the way they were…"

Most parents would be happy but for her it was a criticism. "Fine –  _he_  wanted more than I could give him…" Like for her  _not_  to be in love with his best friend. It wasn't an unreasonable request; realistically it shouldn't even have  _been_  an issue considering she was the untouchable Gail Peck.  _And yet…_

Something told Elaine that what  _he_  wanted had more to do with domestic bliss than professional advancement; thankfully Gail was smart enough not to fall into that career-killing trap. "Does that mean you've finally decided to focus on your future instead of a pithy relationship?" One could only hope…

The relationship was only 'pithy' because it wasn't with a sergeant or detective. Or, as had been her mother's strategy, her TO. Sam didn't come from a prestigious family, though – didn't guarantee her security or success or legacy kids – so a relationship with him wouldn't have satisfied Elaine, either. "Yeah."

Elaine wasn't ignorant of the pressure she put on her youngest to excel and uphold the family name; was certain she'd raised her well enough to always make the right choice in the end. She was also painfully aware that making the right choice for your future often meant making unpleasant sacrifices in the present. "Chris is a nice boy, Gail – a tad too 'awkward teenager trapped in a man's body' for my tastes – but you must realize that it's for the best…" If her daughter had to be distracted by an emotional entanglement she'd much prefer it be with someone who would further her career rather than stifle it. It was such a shame Richard Collins only had girls…

Gail forced down her ire to give her mother a tight nod; the sooner Elaine went to bed the faster she could raid the liquor cabinet and drink herself to sleep. Wouldn't that be the ultimate irony? Gail ending up the alcoholic and Andy the super cop?

"I don't know how you could go back to him after what he did to your brother, anyway…" Elaine ' _tsk_ 'ed. If there was one thing above all else she'd tried to impart upon her children it was that Pecks stuck together, no matter what.

It was more a comment about her own lack of loyalty than another dig at Chris himself but it was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Meeting her mother's gaze, ice blue piercing moss green, Gail adopted a tone that was superficially light but designed to wound. "Speaking of Steve… dad still sleeping in his old room?"

For the first time in years Elaine was struck speechless – her mouth forming a tight line – and by her own daughter no less.

A swift succession of emotions flitted through her mother's eyes – disbelief, indignation, hurt, hate, and finally nothingness – and hot tears of regret filled Gail's own. " _Mom_ …"

Elaine rose from the table to stare coolly down at her daughter. "We're having lunch with the Chief tomorrow –  _another_  relationship you've been sorely neglecting; try to at least be presentable…"

Gail managed to hold herself together until Elaine had climbed the stairs. At the condemning click of the bedroom door she buried her face in her arms to muffle the sobs.

* * *

"Well, that was fun; wasn't it, dear?" Elaine declared cheerfully as she led her daughter into the house.

"Awesome," Gail returned flatly, dropping their purchases in the foyer. If she'd had the energy for it that one word would have been  _dripping_  with sarcasm, the afternoon more stressful than soothing, most of it spent fighting to keep her hair the way it was.  _You really should be more proud of your heritage, Gail; Does anyone actually find that artificial look attractive? I just don't understand why you insist on looking like someone you should be arresting…_ Gail suspected the only reason she'd won was because Elaine was still off kilter from the night before. Score one for reckless impertinence… "I think I'm going to go lay down before dinner."

The girl had wasted half the day sleeping and she needed a  _nap_? She'd definitely inherited her lethargy from Bill… "At least say hello to your father first – he didn't get a chance to see you before he left this morning."

Translation:  _If you'd gotten up before eleven you wouldn't_ _ **have**_ _to._ Gail hadn't been sleeping in, she'd been hiding  _out_ , but admitting that would only make things worse. Better to be lazy than weak… "Sure."

Elaine nodded, satisfied, before calling out to her husband. " _Bill_?"

" _In the den…_ "

Gail followed her mother to the living room, anticipating a 'Hi, daddy' and a swift escape. What she saw when they got there stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Officer Epstein," Elaine acknowledged, masking her surprise. "To what do we owe the visit?"

Dov stood with Bill to greet them, avoiding Gail's penetrating gaze to watch the older man obediently bend to kiss the cheek his wife presented; the same cool cheek he'd seen Gail give Chris whenever she wasn't feeling particularly affectionate. The superintendent approached him and he buried his contempt under a polite smile. "'Dov,' please."

Elaine grimaced as she shook the boy's hand. "Right – like the bird…" Parasitic rats with wings, the lot of them…

"He's here to see Gail," Bill supplied, moving to his daughter's side. "It's about time I met one of your friends, Love." It was about time he saw  _her,_ too, though he wasn't pleased with what he  _did_ see: paleness under the simulated glow and eyes so dull.

"He's not my friend," Gail bit off. Her wary gaze never left Dov, not even as she automatically tilted her head to accept her father's kiss.

That the man showed as much deference to his daughter as his wife, used the exact same move, creeped Dov out; not because there was something wrong with the act itself but because it only highlighted how  _conditioned_  they all were…

"Gail –  _manners,_ " Elaine reminded her, looking between them curiously.

Ignoring her mother Gail demanded, "What are you doing here?" If she'd known he was going to track her down she would have gone to a real hotel.

"We need to talk." What Dov  _really_  wanted was to get her the hell out of that house and away from her mother; she looked even worse than she had yesterday.

Gail shook her head. "It can wait until we get back to work." Which was…  _never._

She didn't even flinch, lying straight to his face, and he lifted a deliberate eyebrow. "No,  _it can't_."

Elaine picked up on something in his voice, their body language, and she realized that there was more between them than being ex-roommates, at least on his end. She turned to her daughter quizzically. "Gail?"

"It's  _nothing_." It was said with certainty, finality, and it was intended for him as much as her mother. "I'm going to take a nap."

Dov shrugged. "Fine – I'll just keep chatting with your dad…" It was a little presumptuous – they'd only met a half hour before – but they'd hit it off, having one very important thing in common. Whatever his feelings about Bill's role in everything the man quite obviously loved his daughter, which was more than could even be presumed about Elaine.

"Like  _hell,_ " Gail snapped, hands finding their way to her hips.

" _Gail_ …" Elaine cautioned. The girl needn't worry – her father wouldn't countermand her…

"I'll have Estella set an extra place for dinner." Bill took a step away from his little fire-cracker lest she lose her temper.

The Peck women simultaneously swiveled their (identical) cool gazes to him and Dov cringed in sympathy.

" _Dad_ …" Oliver she could understand, but him?

"Just give me ten minutes and I'll leave if you want me to…" Dov negotiated, glancing gratefully (and somewhat apologetically) at the older man. He was hoping ten minutes would be long enough to make her forget about the ten minute restriction.

Gail turned from Dov back to her dad, a command to rescind the invitation in her eyes, but he'd developed a sudden fascination with the fireplace.  _Coward._

Dov watched her frosty demeanor turn petulant – like she was a second away from stomping her foot – and he was torn between amusement and guilt for using her father against her. "Gail…"

Pulling herself together Gail told him, in no uncertain terms, "Ten minutes and you're gone."

" _Fine_ ," Dov let out with the breath he'd been holding. When he made to move towards her Elaine stopped him with a hand on his arm and a warning in her eyes.

"I'm very protective of my daughter,  _Officer Epstein_ ," Elaine informed him quietly. "You'd do well to remember that…"

Dov raised a disbelieving eyebrow. If he weren't absolutely certain she was threatening his job… Oh, hell. Lowering his voice to a whisper he countered, "I don't think I'm the one she needs protecting from,  _ma'am._ "

Gail couldn't hear the exchange but her mom's jaw was clenched and that was never a good sign; her dad was going to get one hell of an earful as soon as they'd left the room. And she couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for him. "Clock's ticking…" she announced, exiting the den.

"Superintendent." Giving Elaine a tight nod Dov shook her hand off to follow Gail.

"Close the door," Gail ordered as she led him into the study.

Dov considered  _not_ doing it on principle but decided he already had enough working against him. Doing as he was told he turned back to find her standing stiffly with her arms crossed and her face impassive. He suppressed a sigh, feeling depressingly like one of those mother-fuckers who were always trying to ice-skate uphill…


	17. Chapter 17

The study was deadly still, the soft electrical hum of the computers the only sound as they faced off. Impatient at the best of times Gail glanced pointedly at the grandfather clock.  _Time is a-wasting…_

Anyone else would be volunteering an excuse for trying to disappear without explanation, or at least have the decency to look embarrassed at being  _caught_ , yet somehow she was able to make  _him_ feel in the wrong simply for knowing. Shaking his head in disbelief he supplied, "You were gonna leave, just like that…"

"I  _am_  leaving," she corrected smoothly, leaning back against the desk. "And yeah,  _just like that_." Supposed to be, anyway. She would vow to track down whoever had spilled the beans but didn't think she'd have to look much further than a certain unwed mother…

Not one ounce of shame. Or uncertainty. "There's just one 'little' problem with your plan, isn't there? There's no  _way_  your mother would let you defect to someone else's division…" He would bet his life savings on it.

Gail raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Shows how much you know because it's already done."

"Really?" Dov mirrored her eyebrow with a skeptical one of his own. "So if I go out there and throw out a 'Jeez, we're really going to miss Gail' she's going to know what I'm talking about?"

"That's your first mistake right there," she deflected calmly, looking at her freshly manicured nails. "Thinking she'd believe you guys would miss me…"

It was so matter-of-fact that he had no doubt she believed it.  _He_  did, and he almost let the resulting anger distract him. "That's not the point, Gail."

She knew what point he was making, and knew  _he_  knew he was right as well as she did. "Point  _is_  it's done; as soon as it's finalized she'll have no jurisdiction."

Was she forgetting who her mother was? "What's to stop her from going to the Chief and getting you transferred back?"

Gail shrugged. "She wouldn't do something so obvious; she'll wait for a subtle opportunity to present itself and I'll deal with it then." For all Elaine's power she didn't like being perceived as using it in her own self-interests. Pecks were above that.

Dov was all out of arguments that involved flaws in her strategy; appealing to her (questionable) sense of loyalty was all he had left. "And it doesn't bother you that you're throwing Frank to the wolves? You don't think when she finds out he went behind her back she'll find some  _subtle_  way to punish him?"

"I'll just tell her I tricked him." Her mother could hardly be surprised – she'd taught her everything she knew. Hell, the woman would secretly be proud even while dressing her down for betraying the family and everything it stood for.

"Somehow I don't think she'll  _care_ , Gail," he disputed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "She doesn't exactly seem the type to suffer fools gladly…" Like someone else he knew…

He wasn't wrong; Elaine was perfectly happy using the weak-willed for her own machinations but felt no obligation  _to_  or respect  _for_  them. Still… "If it comes to that I'll get the Chief to intervene." Gail knew Frank hadn't been completely snowed – that a part of him had realized the risk he was taking – and she had no intention of repaying him by abandoning him to her mother's wrath.

The implication that Collins would side with her over Elaine made Dov think he was missing something. "If you're so cozy with the Chief why didn't you just go to him in the first place? Why involve Frank at all?"

The tone was more confused than accusatory but it was the  _words_  that set Gail off. Fire in her eyes she snapped, "Because contrary to popular belief I don't ask to have everything handed to me on a silver platter! You think I couldn't just bat my eyelashes at Uncle Richard and get whatever cushy assignment I wanted?" Just that afternoon he'd asked her if there was anything she needed; she didn't have a choice in following in the family footsteps but she was damn well going to choose  _how_ she did it…

Dov realized he'd hit a sore spot he hadn't even been aiming for. Not this time, anyway. "Gail…"

Done being grilled like a criminal she swiped a menacing hand through the air to shut him up. "I don't expect you to understand – frankly I don't give a shit if you do or not – but you need to  _back the hell off_."

"Understand  _what_? That you're  _running away_?" Only  _she_  could drive him from sorry to sneering in the span of a breath…

Gail's eyes narrowed and her tone became venom. "You know what, Dov?  _Fuck you._  I'm just trying to clean up the mess  _you_  made…"

Even her yelling came out barely more than a whisper, and it was arguably scarier than if she'd raised her voice. "Who asked you to, Gail?" he posed quietly. "I didn't ask you to fix things for me…"

For _him_? " _Wow_ …" she marveled. "It must be nice on Planet Dov where you get to screw up everyone's lives and  _still_  make everything about you…"

Dov cringed. "That's not…"

"Do you even  _care_  about Chris?" Without giving him a chance she answered for him, "Stupid question – you obviously didn't when he was your best friend so why would you now?"

He felt like she'd punched him in the gut, and it was as much because of the harsh allegation as it was because the feeling that Oliver was right, that if she weren't running scared she would have chosen Chris, had become almost overwhelming. "You didn't have to break up with him. I told you…"

"Dov,  _stop_." His crushed expression was the only thing that kept her from saying something much crueler. "I'm not having this conversation again."

They'd never had the conversation the  _first_  time; her definition of discussing it was delivering her verdict and expecting everyone to fall into line. "Fine – here's something new…" Sticking his hands in his pockets he forced a casual shrug. " _I'll_  transfer."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Don't be an idiot."

And if you  _didn't_ mindlessly go along with her you got called an idiot… "This is my mess, remember? If anyone should leave it's me."

What part of this was he not getting? In a tone you would use with a child she informed him, "You're not leaving. You're going to give him a few weeks to forget me and then you're going to be his friend again. That's the  _least_  you owe him."

Dov didn't know what bothered him more: that she was doing it again or that she thought she was so easily forgotten. "He'd take you over me in a second and you know it…"

"It's a good thing I'm not giving him a choice then, isn't it?" she pointed out evenly. "You two  _really_  don't seem to grasp the concept of bros before hos…"

It was him that had broken the 'rule,' not Chris, but she knew that as well as he did. "So our priorities are out of whack – that doesn't give you the right to make the choice  _for_  us…"

Gail shook her head. "No _._  You  _forced_  the choice on me when you put me in this position; your problem is you don't like the one I made…"

Her utter lack of emotion, like she was talking about taking out the trash instead of playing God with their lives, made it easy to switch out the guilt for anger. "Am I  _supposed_  to like it, Gail? You going to Sue behind my back? Making sure I know it's a lost cause?"

 _Are you kidding me_? "That's  _exactly_ how it happened…" she confirmed, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I was sitting there – not doing my job or anything – just thinking 'What would make this already great day  _perfect_?' And then it hit me: 'I'm going to save Dov's relationship – that'll  _really_ stick it to him!'"

He had known it was a misstep as soon as it left his mouth and her face darkened. "Gail…"

She ignored his protest to continue, "So I sent out a telepathic message telling her where I was – I can do that; I just never said anything because I knew the additional awesomeness would blow your simple mind – then I waited for her to find me so I could convince her that her boyfriend  _wasn't_  a cheating scumbag… Highlight. Of. My.  _Week_."

Dov couldn't deny her the scorn but he could argue with her intention. "I don't need you lying and making excuses for me, Gail…"

Raising a skeptical eyebrow she countered, "Evidently you do because she was  _this_ close to dumping your sorry ass… And then where would you be?"

She was unbelievable… "It must be nice on Planet Gail where you get to just  _tell_  someone how to feel and they  _do_." Taking a step towards her he hissed, "I think I made it pretty damn clear there was only one place I  _want_  to be."

Gail's anger wavered but she clung to it, reminding him, "And  _I_  made it pretty damn clear you can't be trusted to make your own decisions…"

"Oh, get off the cross, Gail!" he snapped. "'Martyr' isn't a good look for anyone, least of all you!"  _God_ , she was infuriating. And not as inscrutable as she thought she was.

The anger was back full force, her teeth grit so hard they hurt. "Get out of my house."

Dov took a breath and softened his tone. "No. This isn't even about me, or Chris. That may be what you're telling yourself…"

"Get out of my house before I decide to shoot you for trespassing." The threat was smooth despite the fact that she was shaking inside.

He hadn't wanted to bring it up – had hoped he wouldn't  _have_ to – but it was all he had left. "Oliver told me, Gail…"

Her brow furrowed in confusion until the pity on his face clued her in. It took her a second to recover but she managed a cool, "That I wouldn't shoot you? 'Cause he was wrong…"

The flip answer couldn't erase the realization, then pain, he'd seen written on her face. He forged ahead while she was still off balance. "What do you think? You're just going to forget everything? Start over?"

"I've done it before and apparently I  _did_ forget because I let it happen again." Except this time it hadn't only hurt her – this time there was collateral damage – and  _that_ she wouldn't let herself forget. "I won't make the same mistake twice."

Her tone had lost its edge, become almost timid, and Dov hated that he had to do this to her to get through to her. "Yes, you will. You know why?" He took another careful step towards her. "Because that's not you…"

Shaking her head she told him, "You have no idea what you're talking about." A lot had changed in fifteen years.

"I know you're the one who reached out to Traci," he revealed quietly. "She asked me if sushi was rich whitebread code for something…" Not quite in those words but that had been the gist of it.

Gail shrugged. "I had a craving and figured she could use a free meal." Both plausible  _and_  characteristically condescending.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes Dov continued, "And I know you made the first move on Chris…"

"He told you?" How their relationship had started wasn't really something she was comfortable with  _anyone_  knowing, much less Dov.

"No."  _Thank God._  Finding them had been bad enough, knowing all the horrific details might have destroyed him. "He's Chris – even if you weren't intimidating as all hell he would've choked on his tongue before putting himself out there like that."

True. His shyness and naïveté was what had drawn her to him in the first place; like she could suck up some of his innocence through osmosis. It hadn't worked, but at least it had been a temporarily escape. After James that was all it ever  _had_ been: guys attracted to her eyes, her attitude. The illusion of power. Guys she got rid of as soon as the euphoria had worn off and the apathy had set in. It hadn't with Chris, though; maybe because he hadn't cared how hot she was or who her parents were. Or maybe because she'd thought him so far beneath her she'd never even considered the possibility… "It wasn't  _supposed_  to be more…"

The soft confession was like a knife in Dov's chest; that she hadn't been able to help herself made it even worse somehow, and it only added to the sting of her having never reached out to  _him_. "That makes my point for me then, doesn't it? You may wish you were untouchable – you do a damn good impression – but you're not even close." Burying the resentment he proposed, "You think you're never going to meet another Chris?"

"I've learned my lesson," she informed him wryly, "just because they seem mostly harmless doesn't mean they  _are_." Him more so than Chris. With Chris it had happened gradually – by all accounts  _normally_  – and she'd thought maybe it wasn't so bad. But Dov… Dov had hit her like a Mack truck, with no warning and no chance to defend herself… She'd gotten careless and let her guard down and  _this_ was what she got for it.

That she saw it as a sneak attack, a trap she'd somehow managed to fall into, made his heart hurt for her. "Loving someone isn't a weakness, Gail…"

Funny, she hadn't felt anything  _but_ weak since this whole thing started. "Tell that to Chris – if he didn't love me I wouldn't have been able to break his heart." If she didn't love them both she wouldn't have  _had_ to… Dov opened his mouth – presumably to tell her again that she  _didn't_  have to – and she cut him off with a glib, "So how much did this session just cost me, Dr. Freud?"

He wouldn't have pegged her for the type to pay attention in psych class (unless she was researching new and improved ways to manipulate people) but he was almost certain she was referring to Anna and not her father. Which meant she was calling  _him_  out on calling her on her issues... "Gail…"

"Dov, I've made my decision." It took everything she had to keep the fatigue from seeping into her voice. "Just let it go."

Blowing out a frustrated puff of air he wondered, "Why is it okay for you to decide everything for us but we can't even  _talk_  about your decisions?"

They  _had_  talked about it; it just hadn't changed anything. "Because I'm  _me_  and the rest of you were put here for my amusement. Well, I'm no longer amused…"

Dov knew she had no intention of reconsidering – had a head harder than concrete and the nerves to match – so he made the only decision  _he_  could. "Well, I won't let you do it."

Barking a disdainful laugh Gail repeated, " _Let_ me? What makes you think you get a say in anything I do?"

"I don't." Steeling  _his_ nerves he delivered the four words he knew would be the nails in the coffin of the relationship they'd never had: "But your mother does…"

Gail narrowed her eyes even as her heart skipped a beat. "Did you just threaten to tell my mommy on me?" Were they in grade school again?

"It's not a threat, Gail," he told her evenly. "Either you call Frank and tell him to forget it or I tell Superintendent Peck her little mini-me is planning a coup…" If she would listen to reason, or if he had time to think of something else; if there were  _any_ other way…

"You're bluffing." She didn't believe he'd do it; couldn't believe he  _would_ knowing what he did.

She was studying him, trying to gauge his resolve, and he suppressed the urge to flinch. "What do I have to lose? You stay at the 15 on your own or I garner a few more points with the boss…" Regain the ones he'd just lost, anyway… "Either way I win."

"Don't. Don't you  _dare_  pretend this is a victory," she hissed, fighting the lump in her throat. "If Oliver told you anything you know  _exactly_  how dirty this is…"

He did, and it was killing him to do it so mercilessly, but if she sensed even an iota of hesitation she'd call him on it and he wasn't sure he was callous enough to follow through. "You haven't given me any other options, have you?" he pointed out quietly. "I can't let you turn your back on everyone who cares about you because I screwed up…"

So he was willing to throw  _her_ to the wolves? And rationalize it as being for her own good besides? "I will make your life miserable," she promised, deadly serious.

Dov hid his reluctance and regret behind a cavalier, "As opposed to?"

Gail didn't know if he was saying she always made him miserable, or just that he already was, but she wouldn't ask for clarification; all she was interested in was him withdrawing his ultimatum so she could breathe again.

The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees, the look she was giving him normally reserved for the most difficult of suspects, and if there weren't so much on the line Dov might have caved the way so many before him had. The funny thing was that if she had been crying or begging, asked nicely even, he undoubtedly  _would_ have. "Stand down or stand up to your mother, Gail…" he offered, holding her gaze. " _Your choice_."


	18. Chapter 18

" _Your choice_ …"

The words hung in the air between them like a chasm, too much at stake for either one to close the gap by conceding, both well aware of who had the upper hand.

Painfully so, for Gail. Dov was right, her mother  _wouldn't_  let her defect to another division, but she wouldn't simply forbid it as he seemed to think she would.  _No_  – Elaine prided herself on 'letting' people make their own decisions. 'A person without self-respect has nothing left to lose, Gail,' she'd imparted as soon as her daughter was able to comprehend the lesson, 'Deny them their sense of autonomy and they'll resent you for it; allow them the illusion of freewill and they'll be grateful.' It hadn't taken Gail long to realize she wasn't exempt from that particular manipulation (or any of them, really), and maybe it was because she knew the reasoning behind it but she'd  _never_  been grateful. It was why she was usually so blunt herself – refusing to sugarcoat her dictatorial tendencies – though the fact that she was standing there kind of proved her mother right, loathe as she was to admit it.

Even though she was looking at him Dov could tell she wasn't  _seeing_ him, lost in her thoughts and most likely searching for a way to turn the tides in her favor. He watched her quietly, heart in his throat, hoping she'd come to the conclusion there  _was_  none so it could be over.

Gail ran the scenario through her head, calculating her odds of emerging victorious in a battle of wills with her mother. The revelation would be met first with disbelief – an exaggerated refusal to believe her normally compliant daughter would make such a life-altering decision without consulting them – then disapproval that she'd go so far to hide it with added dismay that she'd be so deceptive while a guest in their house. And if the sheer embarrassment didn't have Gail surrendering then the  _shaming_  would begin: the subtle accusation that she was unappreciative of all they'd done for her; the sacrifices made and measures taken to ensure her opportunity and success. That she'd be disgracing the Peck name by, for all intents and purposes, and to all appearances,  _renouncing_  it. That she'd be betraying the entire family by turning her back on the legacy that had long been established for her, not only by her parents, grandfather, and his father before him, but also their ancestors who had risked everything to come from the Old-country so  _she_ could have a better chance. Elaine had an uncanny ability for taking a kernel of truth and embellishing it to the size of a mountain, and knowing that's what she was doing did nothing to stop you from feeling an inch tall and worthless…

Dov coughed into the silence, unable to stand the struggle behind her eyes anymore. Once she'd blinked and refocused her gaze he took a breath to prompt, "What's it going to be, Gail?"

That he thought it was so simple made her want to hit him. "Go ahead," she shrugged, feigning indifference even while her whole body wanted to tremble with the intensity of combined anger and anxiety.

He wasn't surprised she was testing him – had expected nothing less – but that didn't stop him from having to force himself to turn and move purposefully to the door.

As soon as his hand touched the knob Gail was seized with irrational fear, her stomach tying up in violent knots. " _Stop_."

The quaver in her voice, the helplessness in the soft command, killed any relief he might have felt at not having to go through with it. Turning back he saw she already had her phone in hand, like she was afraid he'd do it anyway if she didn't prove herself willing.

Gail pulled Frank's cell up on her contact list and showed it to Dov as he approached, then hit the call button and put it to her ear. Clearing her dry throat she waited for him to answer. "Sir, it's Officer Peck. Sorry to bother you but I just wanted to let you know I've thought about what you said and you're right…"

It wasn't a big shock she was leaving him out of her explanation; Dov didn't really want credit, anyway. She continued the exchange without taking defiant eyes off of him, until she closed them for just a second, and when she opened them again he knew she'd been staving off tears.

"Of course, sir," Gail breathed. She could tell by Frank's gentle tone that he recognized it wasn't really her choice, though she was certain he thought it was Elaine behind the change of heart, and she graciously declined his offer to switch shifts; she had a growing list of people to repay – Dov and Traci and Oliver – and she couldn't make them suffer if she didn't have access. "We'll talk about it Friday, then…"

Dov listened to her finish up the conversation, and somewhere in her goodbye to Frank he heard a similar, more permanent, message for him. "Gail…"

"I will never forgive you for this," she interrupted tersely, tossing her cell on Elaine's desk. "You know that, right?"

There was no doubt in his mind she meant it, unadulterated hate coloring the straightforward statement. Ignoring the pain in his chest he countered, "As long as you know why I had to…"

Gail raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Wanting to see how much more you could screw up my life doesn't count as 'necessity,' Dov…"

She was being purposefully obtuse but it hurt all the same. "When I said 'more than anything' I wasn't just waxing poetic," he promised quietly. "If saving you from yourself means you hating me then I'm okay with that."

"Who's on the cross now?" she pondered facetiously, denying the part of her that wanted to soften. "I don't need  _saving_  – not from myself and most definitely not  _by_ you – but if thinking that helps you sleep at night then have at it…"

Whether it was a year of emotional turmoil bubbling to the surface or that he didn't have anything left to lose Dov's temper snapped. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Gail had already compromised far too much to retreat when he advanced, folding her arms across her chest and warning, " _Don't_."

"For the record?" he bit off, coming to a stop in front of her, "This isn't just  _my_  mess... I wouldn't have spilled my guts if you weren't so  _goddamned_  good at pushing my buttons!"

"Have you hit your head?" Gail hissed. "You do not get to come in here,  _blackmail_ me, then tell me it's  _my_  fault!" She may not have shot him but he was  _goddamned_ lucky she didn't have her taser handy…

It was the wrong approach to take and Dov knew it. She was like a mood mirror, repressing her own feelings until they were drawn out by what was directed  _at_ her, and if you failed to give her something negative to echo she defaulted back to neutral. Haughty snarky  _false_ neutral but neutral all the same, and a neutral Gail was a hell of a lot easier to get through to than a pissed off Gail… "I'm not saying it's your fault, okay? I'm saying you're  _delusional_  if you think you're completely innocent in all this. I'm  _saying_ …" Holding her wary gaze he finished pointedly, "…you don't get to do whatever the hell you want then act  _surprised_  that there are consequences…"

The quiet accusation had Gail's cheeks heating, part indignation, part  _mortification_. "I didn't…"

Dov put a silencing finger to her lips – considered it a win that her eyes widened but she didn't fight – and dropped his voice to a low rumble. "Did you ever stop to think what you were doing to me when you'd give me one of those looks?" Trailing his fingertips along her cheekbone he cupped her chin and tilted it up to him. "Or used that infuriatingly sexy whisper?"

Gail wanted to protest, mount  _some_  kind of defense, but his gaze was locked onto hers and his tone was mesmerizing and even if she'd been able to  _think_  of one she doubted her vocal chords were up to the task of conveying it.  _Not even_  in an infuriatingly sexy whisper…

The tips of her teeth were worrying her bottom lip and Dov watched, captivated, as the pad of his thumb smoothed out the soft skin there. "How you gave me hope with your passive-aggression and your possessiveness? Tracking me down in the locker room whenever you damn-well  _pleased,_  only to confuse the hell out of me and disappear again?"

A traitorous voice in the back of Gail's mind suggested he had a point but she ignored it, not because it was an inconvenient truth but because the only things she could ( _cared to_ ) focus on at the moment were his thumb resting at the corner of her mouth and the almost irresistible urge to lick her lips. " _Dov_ …"

As though on cue his heart skipped a beat. "That you drive me crazy when you say my name like  _that_  – like there's something else – because then I drive  _myself_  crazy trying to figure out what you  _would_  be saying if you weren't so damned guarded…" The soft intake of breath and the appearance of her pink tongue gave him the courage to add breathlessly, "Wondering what you'd do if I did this…"

The space between them was suddenly diminishing and Gail automatically put a hand to his chest; she couldn't bring herself to push him away, though. She  _could_ feel his heart pounding through the fabric, and it was going as fast as hers was.

Dov covered her hand with his free one, startling her into glancing down at them, and when she met his gaze again the usual clear blue of her iris' had turned stormy. Last of his reservations gone he took a shaky breath and descended to do what he'd dreamt of doing since the first time she'd studied him with eyes so perfect and piercing. And as he touched his lips to hers for the first time – the reality of it far surpassing anything he'd been able to imagine – he decided it would have definitely been worth the wait if he weren't painfully aware he'd been missing out on  _this_  for over a year…

Gail didn't remember closing her eyes but all she could see were spots on the insides of her lids; hadn't meant to respond yet her mouth was moving against his and her fingers were hooked in his sweater to hold him to her. Fought to keep some semblance of control and  _failed_  when his ragged sigh had what might have been mistaken for a whimper emerging from her throat.

That one wanton sound sent all rational thought fleeing from Dov's head, and he just barely refrained from pressing her into the desk and transferring his attention to her pale neck. He wanted her – there wasn't even a word to  _describe_ how much he wanted her – but he wasn't willing to risk pushing too far and setting her off again.

Panic began to set in when Gail realized he wasn't escalating the kiss; that he wasn't seeking entrance to her mouth or letting his fingers roam. The thumb of his left hand was lightly grazing the skin of her right, and the other was cradling her face like she was fragile. It was gentle,  _tender_ , and the lustful flutter in her stomach became a hardened pit of  _something_ that left her feeling nauseous and had her shoving him away.

The abrupt movement surprised Dov, but not as much as the lack of contact hurt him or what it meant  _scared_  him. Shaking his head he whispered, "Don't do this…"

Gail swallowed hard as she reclaimed her hand, reminding herself that he hadn't complied when she'd asked him not to use her biggest ( _only_ ) weakness against her. "You did what you came to do; you can leave now."

His  _intention_  had been to change her mind, not strong-arm her into it, but her expression told him she wouldn't care to see the distinction. "I'm sorry, okay? If you'd given me any other choice…"

"Your apologies are pretty useless, don't you think?" He couldn't just say 'sorry' every time he turned her life upside-down and expect it to be all better;  _she_ still had to deal with the fallout.

Dov's chest contracted painfully, the transition from Gail to untouchable Peck palpable. Her stance was cool and aloof and he knew without a doubt the walls were back up and he didn't have a chance in hell of scaling them. "Gail,  _please_ …"

He was holding a hand out to her like he had once before, except this time his expression was more pleading than clueless and it was  _almost_  the difference between her taking it and, as she had that night, forcing herself to remain unmoved. "We're  _done,_  Dov." Her tone was so detached her mother would have been proud, the skin on the inside of her lip an acceptable sacrifice to the cause.

The clear double meaning destroyed what remained of Dov's quickly fading resolve, and he fleetingly wondered how many times she could possibly break his heart without them ever actually  _being_  together… Before she could notice his eyes were wet he turned around and left.

Gail let him walk away without a word – her teeth gritted and the same knots as earlier twisting her stomach – and as soon as he was out of sight she deflated against the desk to take deep breaths, her lungs seemingly on strike. Hearing movement in the hallway she instinctively straightened and struggled to replace the mask; recognized the footsteps as her father's and  _despised_ herself for being disappointed.

Bill hesitated in the doorway – not sure he was welcome to cross the physical distance any more than he was _able_ to bridge the emotional – and studied his daughter once so close. Years of experience and an irrevocable familiarity told him that behind the façade so practiced she was maybe more upset than he'd ever seen her, and it killed him that  _he_ was to blame; that, despite the best of intentions, he'd failed her once again. "Your mother's seeing him out," he volunteered quietly.

If she weren't so busy trying to hold it together Gail might have laughed at the prospect of Elaine as an overly-polite bouncer.  _I trust we won't be seeing you again, Officer Epstein…_

"Did he hurt you?" Bill demanded, eyes drawn to the subtle massaging of her palm. If the boy had laid a finger on her his job would be the least of his worries…

Gail followed his angry gaze and dropped her arms to her sides, embarrassed because she hadn't even realized she'd been trying to rub away the phantom thumping she still felt there. Not trusting what might come out of her mouth she just shook her head.

All at once she looked so vulnerable, so  _young_  – tears pooling in her eyes and lip trembling – that for the first time in what felt like forever Bill saw his little girl again. He tested their weakened bond with a concerned, "Oh,  _Lucy_..."

The name she hadn't heard in years decimated any hope Gail had of staying strong, and " _Daddy…_ " came out in a choked sob as she crossed the room and threw herself into his chest.

" _Shh…_ " Wrapping an arm around her Bill moved into the room and closed and locked the door behind them before wrapping that one around her, too. Her uncharacteristic abandon, the dampness permeating his shirt, stunned him. But more than that her obvious pain  _devastated_  him. That no matter how hard he wished it he didn't have the power to take it away; that all he could think to say was, "Everything's going to be okay,  _Luscinia…_ " He wouldn't promise, though; she was old enough now to know, had had it proven to her time and again, that he couldn't promise any such thing.

Gail wanted to yell at him that it  _wasn't_ going to be okay – that she was  _broken_  – and it wasn't Dov's fault as much as it was  _his_. Because if he loved her so much he wouldn't have let her become who she was; would have done  _something_  instead of letting Elaine turn her into a frigid little mini-me. But she didn't, because if there was one thing Peck's were better at than believing they were superior to everyone else it was  _acting_  like they were; acting like everything was just  _perfect_  even when it so obviously wasn't. She  _didn't_ , because as much as she secretly hated her father – even more than she not-so-secretly hated her mother – right then she needed him to hold her and stroke her hair and whisper empty promises. Just until she could  _pretend_  everything was okay again…


	19. Chapter 19

Bill parked his Suburban in front of the station and turned to contemplate his daughter in the faint light of the streetlamps. To say he'd been surprised to find her lounging in the doorway of his office earlier, casually announcing she was available for dinner, would have been a gross understatement; particularly because she'd barely acknowledged his existence since Sunday and he'd still been trying to decide  _what_ , if anything, he was going to do about it. And though their meal had been two hours equal parts small talk and uncomfortable silence he couldn't help but hope it was a start; that while she had quickly closed the door she was cracking open a window. At the very least it had reminded him she didn't have to say a word for him to know what was going through her head, and right then, sitting stiffly and making no move to exit the SUV, he knew she was dreading going back to work… "You don't have to go," he offered softly, like she was ten again and freaking out about the 'Jungle Cats' project she was due to present.

Gail scoffed before she could stop herself. One: She'd already tried that and it hadn't worked. And two: What was she going to do? Sneak into the parking lot to get her car and slink away into the night? Even if over the last three hours no one had noticed it sitting there (if no one  _had_ she wept at the state of their police force) people had definitely noticed  _her_ when she'd gone in to meet with Frank. As tempting as playing hooky was she was tired of single-handedly keeping the gossip-mongers entertained… "I'll be fine."

"This isn't the shift to test that on, love…" As a general rule nights were the most dangerous –  _Friday_  night even more so – and he was afraid she wasn't in the right frame of mind for it. It was sad how drastically things had changed… Once upon a time the 15 had been her favorite place in the world – most mornings spent animatedly arguing, pigtails bobbing and hands weaving, the value of practical experience over the 'useless crap' they taught at school – and now she spoke of it as something she merely tolerated. It was probably tied with their house for where she  _least_ wanted to be, and it killed Bill that the places she should feel the safest were the ones where she was most on guard. Worse yet, that it didn't faze her in the least…

The gentle tone didn't keep Gail's hackles from rising. "I  _said_  I'll be fine." She'd never allowed her personal life to affect her on the job before and she wasn't about to  _start_ , her ability to compartmentalize the one thing that had yet to fail her.

Bill didn't doubt she thought she  _would_  be, stubborn as she was, but he'd been in this line of work too long, seen too many good cops – crime-fighting  _machines_  – be completely fine until they just  _weren't_ , to simply trust her judgment. Not when one  _second_  of distraction could mean the difference between being fine and being dead… "I'm just…"

"Dad,  _please_ …" She  _knew_  he was worried, that he'd always had mixed feelings about her joining the force, but the time for resistance had long passed and he wasn't doing her any favors  _now_  with his lack of faith. Still, she gritted her teeth and placated, "I'll be careful, okay?"

" _Okay_ …" he quietly conceded, the set line of her jaw telling him he was about to have the window slammed shut on his fingers. He knew he was being the stereotypical overprotective papa but without knowing what had happened (or how to  _fix_  it) he could only concentrate on keeping it from doing more harm than it already had. Whether she liked it or not.

Gail needed to get out into the cool air, the atmosphere in the cab suddenly stifling. "Tell the boys 'hi' for me…" she directed, finally meeting his troubled eyes to add a wry, "And  _try_  to get home before I do…" He didn't have the market cornered on 'worried;' she was starting to think he'd become a high-functioning alcoholic in her absence. Or maybe it wasn't new at all and she'd just never cared to notice…

Burying his reservations Bill smiled at her, tentatively negotiating, "Make sure you  _come_  home and I'll have breakfast waiting…"

She didn't have the heart to tell him she didn't really  _eat_ breakfast anymore; especially not the blueberry pancakes that used to be their weekend custom. "Deal." Giving his arm an awkward pat she opened her door.

"Lucy…" He wanted to tell her he loved her, that he was going to make it better somehow, but the way she flinched at the name warned him it would be too much, too soon. "Stay safe."

It didn't take ESP to know what he'd been going to say, and, chest tight, she breathed an ambiguous, "You too,  _tata._ " She got out of the car and walked into the building like she owned it, heading straight for the Tac room while it was still early enough that she wouldn't run into anyone. Gear gathered (thankfully no one encountered) she went to the locker room and took advantage of the temporary solitude to mentally prepare for the next eleven hours. When the first people started filing in she forced herself up off the bench to slowly put her uniform on.

Traci walked in and got changed, expecting Gail to eventually stop ignoring her presence and explain five days of unanswered calls.

After a few minutes on the receiving end of the 'disapproving mom' stare Gail paused in buttoning her shirt to stroll up to said 'disapproving mom.' Reaching into Traci's pocket she pulled out the phone, took a picture of herself, then wordlessly handed it back before returning to her own locker and dressing.

 _Seriously?_ "Can we talk about this like rational adults?" The cold shoulder routine was more than a little grade school, and it had Traci flashing back to the year before… "We went to the Penny after shift; Noelle showed up and told me you were planning on leaving ASAP – as in,  _not_ at the end of cycle – and what was I supposed to do? You  _lied_  to us…"

And Noelle's name made its way onto the list… Gail forewent pointing out she'd never actually lied to counter, "Not that I asked for an explanation but what happened to keeping your mouth shut?"

Traci didn't hesitate to throw her words back at her: "I don't know what conversation  _you_ were having but I never agreed to that…"

Gail lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. "You know what  _really_  gets me? That for all you guys' talk of friendship and loyalty you're all pretty quick to betray me…"  _Hypocrites_.

She didn't need to specify for Traci to know she was including Dov's ultimatum in that. "It's not betrayal, Gail; it's doing what's best for you even if you don't see it."

 _Good to know_. "This having friends thing sure is doing wonders for my life," Gail allowed facetiously. "I'll be sure to recommend it to the other recluses at our next meeting…" Snapping her fingers in feigned revelation she corrected, "Oh, wait – we don't  _have_  meetings because, unlike me,  _they're_  smart enough not to trust anyone…"

Traci knew she wasn't familiar with the finer points of friendship but she  _had_  to know none of it had been meant as a personal attack. "It's not…"

"Save it, Nash." She wasn't interested in excuses or rationalizations. "I'm here to do my job, not get all touchy-feely about how much you supposedly care about me."  _Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me thrice and I'm a goddamned idiot…_

"Forget me, then," Traci huffed in frustration. "What about Dov?"

Gail didn't bother looking up from her boots to mutter a disinterested, "Who?" Maybe she'd remember who he was if he'd bothered trying to contact her at all…

Approaching the blonde Traci dropped her voice so the others wouldn't hear. "Chris still isn't talking to him and he broke up with Sue. And he could probably deal with all that, but  _you_ …"

"He  _probably_  should have thought about that before blackmailing me…" No one had forced  _him_  to do anything – dump his awesome girlfriend or otherwise – and while Gail wouldn't play the victim she sure as  _hell_  wouldn't let herself be made out to be the bad guy.

"You said he'd be fine," Traci quietly reminded her. "He's not  _fine_ , Gail…" He'd called that night to give her an update and she could tell by his voice he was  _devastated_ ; after that she hadn't been able to reach  _him_ , either.

Gail disregarded the tightening in her chest to casually pull the hair pins from her bag. "I don't care."

Traci shook her head. "You  _love_  him…" Ice Princess or not, that had to count for  _something_ …

"I never said that," Gail pointed out evenly. Apparently Traci had added 'stating conjecture as fact' to 'back-stabbing' in her repertoire of talents…

Not to  _her_ , no. "You told Chris, Gail; you can't deny it now." Traci didn't know why the blonde was still bothering.

Gail was gripped by an anger so raw tears were stinging her eyes and the hairbrush almost snapped in her hand. "What? Do you guys like have a coffee klatch once a week to compare notes?" As if Sunday hadn't left her feeling exposed and violated  _enough_ … When had  _every_  detail of her life, past  _and_  present, become  _common fucking knowledge_? "Listen to me," she hissed, waving the brush like a weapon. "All of this? He brought on  _himself_ … I have no patience or sympathy for  _stupidity._ "

The callousness of the words and tone took Traci by surprise. " _Wow_  – a couple days at home and you're  _right_ back to being an über-bitch…"

"I've  _always_  been an über-bitch," Gail amended coldly. "You just made the mistake of thinking I have redeeming qualities." Holding Traci's gaze she mercilessly drove home, "I  _don't_."

Knowing it was mostly an act didn't keep Traci from wanting to smack some empathy into her. "You know what? Sometimes you make it real hard to  _want_  to care…" Before she could give in to the urge she walked away.

"Traci…" When she turned around expectantly – tentative hope clearly written on her face – Gail drew from a vast supply of bottled up resentment to give her an icy smile. "Pass the message along, would you? I'd hate to waste my time having this conversation again…"

Traci shook her head sadly. "When you're done channeling your mother and become  _Gail_  Peck again you know where to find me…"

 _Bitch._  Gail watched the door swing shut behind Traci and took a shaky breath. Ignoring the curious stares of the other women she left the locker room, head high, to do the one thing that had always made her feel better. On her first trip to the barn her dad had given her the grand tour; they'd walked the division side-by-side – her all of four foot nothing – surveying their (to  _her_ , cavernous) domain with a critical eye. It had soon become a shiftly ritual, and she'd started doing it alone whenever he was busy or she was bored, and later, after one of Elaine's visits had left her feeling particularly shamed and small. It seemed silly now, the false sense of power and importance the simple process had given her, and she wouldn't have done it at all (especially considering the high risk of running into someone she  _really_  didn't want to run into) if her confidence weren't in dire need of bolstering… She strolled down the hallways, at once composed and purposeful, her gait cautioning people to get out of the way or get trampled, and she'd almost completed the rounds when she noticed Chris through the window of the gym. He was sitting on the bench press in full uniform, staring despondently into space, and any thought she had of continuing on was reluctantly pushed to the back of her mind. Knocking on the door she opened it to poke her head in. "Hey…"

Chris blinked himself out of his trance. "Hey."

"Parade in ten," she advised quietly, not straying from the doorway. Their last encounter had been awkward and difficult; this one no less so, him turned away (presumably) so she wouldn't see the pain in his eyes.

"I'll be there in a minute." He hadn't been prepared for how much it still hurt to look at her, and now that everyone knew what had happened he wasn't too eager to face  _them_ , either.

Every fiber of Gail's being pled with her to escape while she had the chance… Entering the room she rolled an exercise ball in front of him to use as a makeshift perch. "Want a police escort?" she offered, tone light. "Anyone tries to hassle you I'll introduce them to the Peck 'Pulverizer.'" He always had cared too much what others thought…

"That's not a thing…" he disputed, unsmiling, because he couldn't dispute her observation.

It actually  _was_ – a vicious trick of the baton her brother had taught her – but she'd never gotten to use it, the menace of her pulling and expanding the weapon enough to have most people cowering. Sadly. Tugging on his pant leg she encouraged, "Talk to me…"

Chris swallowed hard. "What's there to say? I lost my girlfriend, my best friends, and my roommates all at the same time…" What he had  _left_ was a much shorter list.

And there went the temporary boost in confidence… "I'll cover the rent for as long as you need me to."

"It's not about the money, Gail." He didn't give a flying Fig Newton about the money.

She knew that, just like she knew he could be comforted by a simple touch; in the long run it would do more harm than good, though. "He's still your best friend, Chris; you just have to forgive him…"

He scoffed so hard, both at the suggestion and that it was coming from she who forgave  _nothing_ , that his throat ached.

"I know you miss him…" He might as well have been crying in the dark for all his body language screamed 'lonely.'

"I miss a lot of things," he countered snidely, "doesn't mean they're good for me."

 _Ouch._  Okay, so she might have deserved that one. And it wasn't anything she hadn't said herself… "This isn't you, Chris; the snubbing and the animosity…"

He slammed his fists down on his thighs. "I'm pissed off, Gail!"

She covered his hands with her own, and when his surprised eyes met hers she whispered, " _I know._ "  _God_ , did she know. But he wasn't like her.  _He_  couldn't hold a grudge like it was the only thing keeping him going;  _him_  it ate at in a way she would probably never understand. If she thought it would get him anywhere other than alone and bitter she'd let him have it. She knew better. "You want to be pissed off? Go ahead – you have every right. But be pissed off at  _me_. It was  _my_ choice…" And  _she_  could take it.

"I'd rather be pissed off at  _both_  of you…" The words lacked conviction – his anger wavering opposite her muted concern – and he unclenched his fists so they were palm to palm.

Gail forced herself not to flinch or pull away. It would be so easy to fall back into old habits; envelope herself in what was familiar and safe. "Fair enough." Holding his gaze she pointed out, "But you're  _talking_  to me…" His mouth tightened in a line, like he'd just  _realized_  he was, and she took it to mean he wasn't planning on talking to  _her_  anymore, either. "Look, I'm not saying you have to live with him or share your jock strap or whatever the hell it is guys do… Just stop treating him like he isn't there; you're punishing yourself as much as you are him and that's just stupid."

"So now I'm stupid?" He'd known the kindness was too good to last…

"I didn't say that." She  _had_  known he would take it that way, though; offended enough to  _have_  to respond. "I'm saying he fell for me as anyone with eyes and a brain invariably  _does_  given time; like you, he didn't stand a chance…"

"It's not funny, Gail," he bit off even though her expression was far from amused. It wasn't Dov's feelings he had a problem with; it was what he had  _done_  with those feelings.

It was depressingly  _unfunny_ actually, but she couldn't defend Dov's actions (even if she'd wanted to) and she was at a loss on how to convince Chris to do something she would never in a million years have the compassion to do in his place. There was always the 'Samuels' card to play but while she wasn't above being a hypocrite she refused to subject him to the same feeling of powerlessness. "Fine. If you won't do it for yourself then do it because I'm asking you to…"

Chris raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Why would I want to do that?"

Because he'd never denied her anything before and she really doubted he'd start now; not when his fingers had curled around her hands and he'd slid forward on the bench so their knees were touching. She hated having to resort to emotional manipulation – she'd already fucked with his emotions enough – but consoled herself that he wouldn't  _realize_  she was doing it. "I didn't think you would – you definitely don't owe me anything – but I had to give it a shot." Shrugging in mock-defeat she added truthfully, "I don't like seeing you like this, Chris." She really hadn't planned on being around  _to_ see him like this.

"Is that why you were going to transfer?" He couldn't have imagined her running away from  _anything_ , and he wouldn't have believed it at all if both Traci and Andy hadn't confirmed it.

Gail quickly doused the resurfacing anger; covered it with a wry, "When have you known me to do something for  _only_  one reason?"

Chris didn't even want to think about what those other reasons were. "Were you even going to say goodbye?"

"I wasn't leaving the country, Chris," she deflected. "And there's this newfangled contraption called a telephone…"

Translation:  _No_. And he wasn't naïve enough to think she would have answered if he  _did_  call… "So you were just going to disappear without a word…" They weren't on great terms but she had to know it would hurt him.

Gail didn't have the energy to have that discussion again; it was pretty moot now anyway. "Come on," she instructed, pulling him up with her. "Noelle's gonna flip her lid if we're late…"

Once they were standing she went to move away but Chris held firm. "Gail…"

Afraid of what he was going to say – that he'd misinterpreted her concern – Gail cut him off with a sad shake of her head. "It's gonna get easier, Chris." Giving his hands a last squeeze she released them and led him out of the gym, wondering if maybe she wasn't trying to reassure herself as much as him…


	20. Chapter 20

"Don't start."

"Start what?" Andy feigned confusion, her innocent expression wasted because the blonde's attention was on driving. "I wasn't starting…"

It was a sad day when, given her choice of partner, Gail picked McNally. It was even sadder that her nerves were already so frayed it had taken the girl all of five minutes to  _get_  on them… "You opened your mouth." She'd seen it out of the corner of her eye.

"I'm a mouth-breather," Andy explained with a 'what can you do?' shrug.

Gail shot her an unimpressed eyebrow, all  _Who do you think you're talking to?_

The shamed silence lasted only a second. "Look…"

" _Ugh_!" The groan was only a tad exaggerated – in hindsight she should've had Andy put with Dov to punish  _him._

Andy ignored her. "I get wanting to be a lone wolf when things blow up, okay? But it doesn't work…"

"It doesn't work for  _you_ ," Gail immediately corrected. "You know what doesn't work for me? Being part of a pack."  _That_  had been proven beyond the shadow of a doubt.

" _Please_!" Andy scoffed, "You're like the consummate alpha…"

" _Yeah_ ," Gail scoffed right back, "As soon as you guys stop nipping at my heels and fall into line I'll be sure to reconsider…"

Undeterred by the obvious contempt Andy revised, "Fine, so we're more a bunch of unruly outcasts who banded together to survive…"

Gail scanned the darkened streets, wondering the odds that they'd both survive _the shift_.

"Still, it doesn't make us any less fierce…"

"Andy,  _please_  shut up."

"Or any less a family…"

Gail blew a puff of air through pursed lips, resigned to the fact that if she didn't participate she'd be talked  _at_  for nine hours straight. And she much preferred the sound of her own voice to Andy's… "I never asked to be part of your little patchwork family." Fought it tooth and nail, actually.

"Who says you get a choice?" They both knew you got what you got and you made the best of it. "Like it or not you're one of us."

" _Not_ ," Gail reiterated, just in case there was any uncertainty. "And if this is the lead-in to a 'you're hurting the boys and destroying our family' lecture you can save your breath."

 _Projecting much?_  "First off, I don't lecture." She was in no position to tell anyone how to live their life when she'd yet to get a handle on her own. "And this isn't about the boys; it's about  _you_."

Even better –  _she_ was her least favorite subject. "Then that goes double. Traci already tried to find my inner light and all she got for her efforts was hypothermia…"

" _Ah_ ," Andy hummed knowingly, "but  _I_  have something she doesn't…"

Gail took her gaze off the road to shoot her partner a perplexed look. "This isn't a race thing, Andy; I'm not  _not_ listening to her just because she's black…" She disregarded  _everyone_ , regardless the color of their skin.

 _Huh_? Andy shook her head, similarly confused. "I was  _talking_  about a fucked up childhood…"

 _Oh._  In Gail's defense the brunette's brain usually seemed to function on a different wavelength than the rest of the planet's. And as far as she knew everyone assumed she had a charmed life… "Uh… congratulations?" she offered like it was news. "So what does that have to do with me?"

"Oh, come off it, Gail," Andy advised with a roll of her eyes. "My dad was at the 15 the whole time you were, remember?" Friends with  _her_  dad, even, until his fall from grace had made him a liability.

Gail's hands tightened around the steering wheel. "Good to know I was gossip-worthy even as a kid…" That was somehow  _worse_  than Dov (or Oliver) opening his mouth.

The atmosphere in the cruiser was suddenly crackling with hostility and Andy quickly supplied, "Not  _then_ …" Her dad had had enough of his own drama to deal with back then… "He mentioned it last year."  _She_  never would have brought it up at all but it seemed necessary at this point.

"And why would he do that?" Gail posed skeptically, resisting the urge to ask if he'd  _also_  mentioned she'd been privy to his downfall and subsequent dismissal – a situation Elaine had been only too eager to exploit as a teaching opportunity; even if Gail  _hadn't_  considered family issues off limits she still considered kicking Andy too akin to kicking Chris for any satisfaction to be garnered from it…

"I might have been complaining about what a stuck-up bitch you were…" Andy muttered, all of a sudden fascinated by the passing scenery.

Gail raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, partly because she wouldn't even bother denying it and partly because the girl had apparently (and against all odds) managed to keep the information to herself. "Boyko had his pick of the Academy litter…" When the brunette turned back to her curiously she deadpanned, "You think he was trying to see how many mommy- and daddy-issues he could fit into one batch of rookies?"

Andy was surprised by the lack of scathing retort but wouldn't question it. "Chris and Traci made out okay in the parental sweepstakes, but yeah… we do seem to have a high ratio of damaged people, don't we?" Either they were really good at hiding how screwed up they were or the Academy had gotten pretty lax with their psych requirements…

It wasn't her place to disclose Chris' misfortune so Gail just 'tsk'ed, "And yet  _Traci_  is the one who messed up…" Clearly a normal upbringing was overrated…

"Speak for yourself," Andy countered, catching on to the blonde's attempt to shift the focus elsewhere. "I may not have a seven-year-old to show for it but I messed up plenty."

Gail gave a derisive snort. "Accidentally landing yourself in crazy-ass predicaments doesn't count, Andy…"

Okay, so she had a bit of a reputation as a klutz… "When my mom first took off I was too busy trying to hold my dad together to fall apart, but after I found out about her new family…"

Uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was (re)taking Gail negotiated, "If I pretend to believe you were a badass will you spare me the sob story?"

"I acted out," Andy continued as though the blonde hadn't spoken, "Got myself in all sorts of trouble." Got involved in things she never should have been involved in… " _You_ , on the other hand…"

"Watch it, McNally…" The only thing Gail hated more than being forced to listen to someone inappropriately talk about their shit was being forced to listen to someone inappropriately talk about  _her_  shit.

Waving a dismissive hand Andy finished, " _You_ repressed because acting out wasn't an option."

Gail's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'm sorry – did I miss it when you went out and got your medical degree?" First Mama Nash and now Doctor McNally… could  _no one_  just mind their own damned business?

She might have  _also_  had a reputation for a less-than-impeccable survival instinct… "I get being dealt a sucky hand and playing it the best way you know how, Gail. And I get that sometimes your  _only_  chance of winning is bluffing your ass off and not letting anyone close enough to see through the act." The blonde's clenched jaw didn't stop Andy from concluding, "But there comes a time, up or down, when you have to walk away from the table…"

"Are you saying I should just off myself?" Gail interrupted what was sounding suspiciously like a lecture disguised as a poker analogy, "'Cause I'm pretty sure the CPA actually advises  _against_  suggesting suicide as a coping mechanism…"  _Especially_  to someone who carried a variety of deadly weapons…

"I'm  _saying_  you need to stop playing the game and start living your life," Andy reiterated even though she knew her partner was just being difficult. "So your parents screwed you up – join the club – but we're not kids anymore, Gail; at some point you just have to decide you're not going to let their failings dictate who you are."

 _Seriously?_  "You put aside your veritable  _cornucopia_  of trust and abandonment issues to be with a guy who then betrayed you in the worst possible way…" If  _anyone_ should have understood where she was coming from it was Andy; their issues were issues for a reason.

"Yeah,  _okay_ ," Andy shrugged. "When Luke cheated on me it hurt like hell and the walls shot right back up. But you know what?" When the blonde looked at her expectantly (indulgently?) she finished, "I'd just picked the wrong guy to set them aside for. And by the time I decided Sam was worth it, it was too late."

Gail cocked a cynical eyebrow. "I thought this wasn't about boys?" Not that she'd believed it before; no matter how hard the brunette tried her life seemed to revolve around who she was (or  _wasn't_ ) with at any given moment.

Andy lifted a skeptical eyebrow of her own. "Like you wanting to transfer had nothing to do with Chris and Dov?" Even when they didn't  _want_  it to be about boys it was about boys… "But you know what I realized? That more than any boy  _I'm_ worth it; I was tired of holding myself back and being miserable for it."

"I'm glad you could just click your heels and will it so, Dorothy…" Where were all the rowdy alcoholics and greedy dealers when Gail needed them?

If  _only_  it had been that easy… "I handcuffed myself to Luke's bed."

Not missing a beat Gail snarked, "I don't need to know about your kink with Callaghan, Andy." Seriously – Friday nights were  _never_ this quiet; she was tempted to radio dispatch just to make sure their comms weren't on the fritz…

"When I'd wake up in the middle of a panic attack, just as likely to puke as breathe," Andy elaborated despite the clearly  _deliberate_  misinterpretation. "It gave me time to calm down and the urge to flee to pass."

"Dude ended up breaking your heart…" Gail pointed out wryly, "You probably should have gone with that instinct…"

Andy's lips fell into a pout. "Oh, shut up. It  _worked_." After a second she conceded, "Well, not in the long run, obviously, but you know what I mean…"

 _Unfortunately_. Same as she knew the connection the brunette was trying to force. "I didn't have a problem staying in Chris' bed, Andy," she insinuated, hoping to nauseate the prude into shutting up. "If the cuffs made an appearance it was purely recreational…"

Well,  _that_  was the mental image that would keep on giving… "Intimacy issues manifest different ways, Gail; all I'm saying is that they're possible to overcome." Not  _easy_ , but possible.

 _Ugh._  Had Gail somehow stumbled onto the set of Dr. Phil? "No offence, Andy, but your mom is long-AWOL and your dad is a permanent fixture in the church basement; you can move on because it's in your past."

The implication being that it was very much the blonde's  _present_ , but Andy knew it didn't have to be. "You were fine when you moved out, Gail…"

"No, I was  _delusional_ ; there's a difference." She'd gotten too comfortable in a life that wasn't meant for her. "It's how I got  _into_  this mess, remember?"

Andy pondered it a bit before allowing, "Okay, so you have the added complication of being in love with two guys…" Two  _great_ guys, neither of whom was a cheating scumbag… "But if you'd let go of the guilt and just pick one…"

 _Just pick one_? She wasn't waffling over the dessert menu, for Christ's sake… "How 'bout this? We'll just toss their names in your hat and I'll choose at random… Would that work for you?"

"I didn't mean it like that…" The scorn had gone from teasing to biting, putting Andy on notice to tread lightly. She was actually surprised she'd managed to get  _this_ far without being forcibly gagged… "Unlike my best friend, well-meaning as she is, I'm not going to presume to know which one you want to be with, or even that  _you_ know which one you want to be with." God knew it had taken  _her_  an engagement, an affair, and a(nother) near death experience to figure it out. "My point is that you're letting this thing with the boys undo all the progress you made this year. I get that you feel like if you hadn't let your guard down you wouldn't be in this position – your walls went back up as fast as mine did when Luke cheated – but if you'd just work through your issues and let yourself be with the one you  _do_ want…"

If Gail heard 'I get' one more time she was going to drive them off a bridge because the brunette clearly didn't 'get'  _anything_. "I  _need_  my issues, Andy;  _they're_ my coping mechanism…" Without them she might've 'walked away from the table' a long time ago… "And if you even suggest that I  _wouldn't_  need them if I'd 'just pick one' I  _will_  hurt you." The insinuation that having a man would solve all her problems was ridiculous bordering on offensive.

It looked like whatever she said was just going to get twisted but (luckily?) it wasn't Andy's first time at the 'Gail lashes out' rodeo… "You can't say things weren't better when you were with Chris…"

"The only thing that was 'better' because of Chris was my relationship with the rest of you," Gail informed her shortly. "And trust me when I say  _that's_  an 'improvement' I'm starting to regret…"

Andy rolled her eyes at the slight but let it go. "Deny it all you want but you were happier, Gail,  _if only_ because you were out of the house and out from under your mother's thumb." That the blonde had willingly returned (despite both of the other girls providing an alternative) made it seem like she was either punishing herself for what had happened or trying to prove that it hadn't made her weak, neither of which was a healthy response.

That was only a  _little_  less offensive than the idiotic notion that a man could save her. "Do you really think my mother's 'thumb' is limited to the confines of her house, Andy? That living somewhere else meant I was somehow  _outside_  her influence?  _Why_? Because the  _second_  I moved out she decided to just let me be? Are  _you_ delusional?" It had actually made things  _worse_ , the loss of immediate access doubling Elaine's displeasure. Things were  _just_ starting to calm down again.

Melanie Harlow – the woman who'd chosen to stay with her abusive husband – jumped to mind, putting a darker, more disturbing spin on Gail's decision to go back. And made Andy feel horrible for making light of her 'fear'…

"The house isn't my problem, Andy; the  _name_ is. Or do you think the perks of being a Peck outweigh the drawbacks?" Shaking her head Gail scoffed, "You guys think I get special treatment? Fine: I  _do_  – because they think sucking up to me'll get them in good with the 'rents; I get to cop an attitude because I'm the Super's daughter. But guess what… I'm held to a higher standard than the rest of you, too."

The discussion had taken a turn Andy wasn't prepared for and her brow furrowed. "It may seem that way…"

" _Shut up_!" Gail bit off, glaring at her partner out of the corner of her eye. "You wanted to have this little pow-wow? Well, now it's  _your_  turn to listen…" Everyone was so quick to offer their half-baked uninformed  _unsolicited_  opinions of her character and issues and faults and neuroses and she was fed up of it; fed up of them assuming they knew who she was and  _why_  she was and how to  _fix_   _her_ … "You  _really_  think I could have gotten away with half the crap you've pulled? Messed up even a  _fraction_  of the times you guys have?"

Andy guessed the answer was no but chose (what she thought was wisely)  _not_ to voice it.

"You know what I get if I  _do_? 'We expect more from you, Peck.' 'You of all people should know better, Peck.' 'Are you  _trying_  to humiliate me and this family?'" Barking a bitter laugh she choked out, "I have to watch every. little. step. because one screw-up and I'm a taint on the legacy and on the 15. Barely a year in and I'm already a glaring disappointment because I haven't done  _enough_. No matter what I do it will never  _be_ enough…" Gail could have gone on but she was already shaky and didn't trust herself to continue without breaking down. Dropping her voice to a hoarse whisper she sniped, "The most anyone expects of  _you,_ Andy? Not to get yourself or anyone else killed when you go off all half-cocked. So pretend we're all 'sisterhood of the fucked-up childhood' if you want, but here,  _now_? We have  _nothing_ in common…"

"Look," Andy offered once the electric charge in the air had died down, "I'm not saying I know what it's like to be you…" She had no idea how much of the tirade was real and how much was imagined (or  _conditioned_ ) but it was painfully obvious Gail believed it and that was all that mattered. "But I  _do_  know what it's like to feel powerless, Gail; especially against yourself." Giving it a second to sink in she proposed softly, "Aren't you tired of being miserable?"

Gail bit her lip to stave off the sudden onslaught of tears. She was just  _tired_ ; had been for so long she didn't even know  _what_  it was of anymore… That was one confession too many, though, so she volunteered a terse, "I'm tired of this conversation…"

"I'm just trying to help, Gail." She couldn't help with the rest but she was unfortunately  _over_ qualified in the 'hella complicated love life' portion.

"I don't  _want_  your help." Did she need to put it on a billboard? Have it stenciled on all the cruisers in the form of 'Serve, Protect, and MYOB'? "What I  _want_  is for you guys to accept that I'm just not like you and all the heart-to-hearts and pseudo therapy sessions in the world won't change that…"

Andy wouldn't argue the validity of the statement, the blonde's vacant tone and wilted posture telling her she'd forced the issue enough already. Looking out the window she sighed, "I miss him, you know? Like crazy. I can't stop thinking he's out there doing something dangerous and if something happens to him I won't have told him what he means to me. And I'll have no one to blame but myself…"

Gail would have called a moratorium on talking about boys if she'd thought Andy was at all capable. At least they weren't talking about her anymore… "You guys made repulsive goo-goo eyes at each other every chance you got – I'm sure he knows."

" _True_." Turning back to her friend Andy added pointedly, "Can you say the same?"

Well, she'd walked  _right_  into that one… "You know," Gail began evenly, meeting the brunette's infuriatingly triumphant gaze, "if you have to stop breathing to shut your mouth I won't object…"


	21. Chapter 21

It was Saturday before shift, but instead of focusing on decrypting last night's notes Dov's attention was (surreptitiously) on the blonde across the squad room. She was lounging on the edge of Andy's desk – flipping through a magazine like she didn't know (or  _care_ ) that she was once again the 'water cooler' topic of choice – while the other girl thumbed through the pages in a manila folder beside her. For the longest time they could have been in separate rooms for all the interacting they did, until the brunette grimaced at something she saw and shared the source of her disgust. Far from sympathetic Gail laughed, and the sight made Dov want to smile and killed him all at the same time.

" _Good show_?"

He jumped, knocking over his half-full cup and sending his disorganized but decipherable notes to soggy and completely illegible in seconds. " _Son of a_ …"

"Sorry," Traci muttered, quickly grabbing a handful of tissues for the spilt coffee. She hadn't meant to scare him; catching him openly staring – what he probably thought was  _discreetly_ , besides – had just been too much to resist. She  _had_  noticed Gail glance over at the disturbance and then immediately look away… "You okay?"

Not knowing how to answer honestly without coming off as pathetic he deflected, "I think the better question is 'has hell frozen over?'" He tilted his chin in the girls' direction. "Since when are  _they_  all chummy?"

Since their favorite narcissist had run out of people she  _was_  chummy with? Not that it had been a long list to start… "Andy's helping her look for an apartment."

 _Huh?_  Dov tossed the wet napkins, brow furrowed. "How'd that happen?"

"Gail called her this morning to 'ask' to see the ones she turned down." Traci didn't bother with the air quotes; they both knew the definition of 'ask' per the Peck lexicon.

Dov dropped back into his chair with a quiet, "She's buying a place…" It wasn't that he wasn't  _happy_ she was, it just stung like hell that he was finding out third-hand.

Traci shrugged, downplaying it. "If by 'she' you mean 'her dad;' he went with them this afternoon to check some out."

"He did?" A week ago Dov wouldn't have thought anything of it but his conversation with Gail's dad had left the distinct impression they were estranged and had been for a while; that she was so close to him  _now_  – after what had happened Sunday – just didn't make sense…

"Yup…" Traci didn't know why he seemed so surprised; he'd had Gail pegged as a spoiled daddy's girl from word go and evidently he'd been right: "And according to Andy money is no object." Sitting next to him she heaved a wistful, "Must be nice…"

Dov shook his head, more to himself than  _at_  her. "Money doesn't magically fix everything…" It had only made things worse for Adam and he sincerely doubted it could buy Gail's love or forgiveness. Still, he couldn't help but hate Bill a little for having the opportunity to  _try_.

"Maybe not, but it fixes having to worry about money…" The only people who had the liberty of  _not_  caring about money were the ones who  _had_  it; the rest of the world had to worry about keeping a roof over their head and food in their fridge… "Anyway…" Traci found her way back to the topic at hand, "I wish she'd hurry up and pick something; I'm getting tired of coming to work just to get frostbite." And it had only been two days…

Raising a skeptical eyebrow Dov translated, "You think she's just going to forget everything if she moves out?" She was even more delusional than he was…

It would seem he didn't share her optimism… "I'm  _hoping_ history repeats itself and moving out  _thaws_ her out." The connection wasn't very hard to make, even if she could only  _assume_  it was due to the blonde's mother functioning as her own personal bitch battery. "Then she'll have to realize she's overreacting, right?"

"With  _you_ , maybe…" While Traci might (eventually) be absolved Dov knew he wouldn't be granted the same reprieve. The parts they'd played weren't even comparable.

Traci felt the frustration mounting; blew it out in a sharp puff of air. "You know, I kinda wanna hit you right now…" All he would say was that Gail would never forgive him – not  _what_  he'd used to get her to stay – and if it was more than just melodramatic fatalism she wasn't getting it; other than the Chris/ Samuels thing (which he'd already denied) she had no idea what he could have possibly blackmailed the blonde  _with_. "If it turns out, after all this, that Gail is a closet smoker I  _will_ hit you." After a beat she appended, "And then I'll hit her  _for_  smoking…"

Dov wished he  _could_ tell Traci, if only so she would stop making him feel like  _he_  was overreacting… "Andy happen to say anything about  _that_?" He motioned to where Chris had appeared in front of Gail.

The defeat in his tone told Traci he'd heard the rumors that had been floating around since end of shift that morning; unfortunately she didn't have any more info than he did… "It doesn't mean anything, Dov; she wouldn't be getting her own place if they were back together."

"Why not, if her dad's paying? The apartment's too big for them now, anyway…" The only upside to  _that_  was if Chris got the girl he might let Dov take over the lease; his mom's fussing was getting old fast.

Traci didn't believe it for a  _second_ ; not unless Gail was just doing it to make him suffer. And no matter how infuriated she was with him (or how much she  _wanted_ him to suffer) Traci couldn't see her being so intentionally cruel to Chris. There was always a possibility the willful blonde had convinced herself she  _wanted_  to be with her ex again, though, in which case the theory was shot all to hell.  _Uh…_ "They're just talking…"

Attempting to read their body language from across the room Dov distractedly pointed out, "It's more than I'm getting." Pipe dream or not he'd given Gail a couple of days hoping she'd cool off; being treated like a complete non-entity had  _not_  been the desired result…

"If you'd heard her yesterday you'd be counting yourself  _lucky_ ," Traci offered as (small) consolation. She was still mortified she'd let Gail goad her into stooping so low.

Dov would most definitely prefer the vitriol to what he  _was_  getting, the reigning silence as agonizing as it was maddening. "It doesn't bother you that we put in the work and  _they're_  benefiting?" Not that he'd done it expecting a reward but it just seemed horribly unfair…

'Bitter' wasn't his best look but Traci couldn't really blame him. Trying to cheer him up she joked, "I'd hardly call it 'benefiting,' Dov…" And not even a crack of a smile – the boy really  _was_  hopeless… "You know  _why_  I think she's fine with Chris?"

Assuming they  _weren't_  back together? "'Cause they can commiserate about how I screwed them both over?"

The self-pity wasn't any better and it earned him a (somewhat) playful swat across the arm. " _Because_  Chris is safe. She doesn't have to worry about him getting too close."

"Yeah …" Eyes still on the blonde and her on-again, off-again, maybe on-again boyfriend Dov snarked, "That would be more reassuring if I hadn't just given her the best excuse not to be fine with  _me_." And reminded her precisely why she didn't  _want_  anyone close…

Traci sighed. "Look, I know this sucks but you need to be patient, okay? At least we have someone on the inside…" The negligible detail that the 'someone' wasn't exactly pushing their agenda wouldn't do anything for his confidence so she left it out.

Dov scoffed at the notion of Andy as a mole. "You do know what happens when the inside man gets caught, right?" And she invariably  _would_  – her undercover skills were notoriously awful.

" _Please_ ," Traci scoffed back. "Even if Andy knew the meaning of subtle do you really think the master manipulator wouldn't know she was being worked?" Gail had probably known what Andy was up to before she'd even opened her mouth… "That she's allowing it at all is a good sign."

"Or she has no intention of budging and she's just messing with Andy…" And by extension, _them_. That way she could get her revenge without even having to deal with them directly…

Traci hated that he was effortlessly (and alas,  _effectively_ ) shooting down every one of her arguments. "Can you  _not_  be such a Debbie Downer?" she huffed, kicking his boot. "Where's the 'do or die' attitude that drives the TOs crazy and leaves the rest of us sick with worry while you're charging in head first with no regard for the consequences?" If there was a word not part of  _his_ vocabulary it was 'surrender.'

Ignoring the oversimplified (and debatably  _insulting_ ) assessment of his personality Dov posed, "You think I should be pushing her on it?"

It was a tough call; pushing Gail on  _anything_  was generally a bad idea – even more so when she had her heels dug in (as evidenced by their last encounter) – but if you  _didn't_  push her she put down roots and then you were  _really_  screwed… Playing it safe Traci offered, "I think being passive wasn't what won her over in the first place and it's sure as hell not gonna be what wins her  _back_ …"

Dov groaned at the implication that he'd 'had' her to begin with. "If it's possible  _at all_ ; she made it pretty clear I'm on the 'dead to her' list."

"She's pretending you don't exist so she doesn't have to deal, Dov," Traci theorized quietly, holding his wary eyes. "You're not doing yourself – or  _her_ , by the way – any favors by letting her." Realizing it was easier said than done she grabbed his hand and stood. "Come on…"

After a second of internal debate Dov stood and followed her towards the others, nearly changing directions when his (ex) best friend moved closer to his (ex) non-girlfriend upon seeing them.

Gail was alerted to their approach by Chris' (likely subconscious) movement. " _Hey_ …" When he turned his attention back to her she shook her head in gentle warning.

"It's fine _,_ " Chris muttered, willing himself to relax. He had no intention of starting anything, partly because he (grudgingly) owed Dov for her staying but mostly because (even though he hadn't decided to grant her request) he still considered the guy his friend. They were just on a break…

They came to a stop, her and Dov on one side, Gail and Chris on the other, Andy in the middle like a line in the sand. "How's it going?" Traci greeted, faux-casually.

Leaning back in her chair Andy griped, "Besides being woken up like two minutes after I fell asleep and spending the afternoon with the picky prickly princess here?  _Peachy_ …"

Gail rolled her eyes. "Quit your whining – I let you sleep 'til eleven." To no one in particular she announced, "Andy's kind of a grouch when you wake her up…" The resulting conversation – replete with what apparently passed for curses in the brunette's mind – had only made the revenge sweeter…

"Says the girl who tramples anything in her path to the 'snooze' button…" Fearing for his life Chris had finally switched the alarm clock to  _her_  side.

"True," Gail admitted with a toothy grin. "But  _I_  was smart enough not to go to bed…" Double shifts made training their bodies to function without sleep a necessity; it was a skill that came in handy. Especially lately.

Andy groaned. "Right – 'cause I was supposed to  _predict_  you'd call me demanding to go shopping…" She could count the number of times the blonde had called her on one hand, and half of  _those_  had been in error.

"I didn't demand, I strongly suggested." How people couldn't tell the difference was beyond her. "It's not my fault you're incapable of saying no…"

Traci refrained from reminding Gail that she was incapable of  _accepting_ no as an answer so the point was probably moot…

"I  _would_   _have_  if I'd known I was only there to play buffer between you and your dad…" Not only had the Inspector's presence initially made things weird but it had kept them from discussing anything important.

Gail shrugged. "Why did you  _think_ I invited you?" Yesterday's uncomfortable dinner had confirmed she wasn't anywhere near ready to be alone with her dad for an extended period of time. Subjecting the brunette to an afternoon of family 'fun' had just been a bonus…

 _Ugh._  "Can we stop pretending I had a choice?" Andy huffed up at the blonde.

"Sure…" Cocking an eyebrow Gail added pointedly, "So long as we  _also_ stop pretending I was the only one with an ulterior motive…"

Andy looked embarrassed, Chris confused, and Traci self-satisfied. Dov didn't know what  _she_  was so happy about – Gail had pretty much just put them all on notice that she was wise to the game and wasn't having it…

It appeared everyone else had been struck silent so it was left to Traci to keep the dialogue going. Leaning against the desk she feigned a curious, "Did you find something at least?"

"Other than something  _wrong_  with every place we saw?" Andy volunteered, grateful to her best friend for the shift in focus. "Too much light; too many stairs; not enough closet space. The last one was too 'rural,' whatever the heck that means…"

Like Gail was stupid enough to believe Andy hadn't already given Traci the rundown… "It  _means_  if I'm going to be living there for the foreseeable future I want to make sure I'm not going to regret it in a couple of months…"

Dov was pretty sure all present had heard the unspoken 'like last time' loud and clear. Catching Gail's eye he smoothly interjected, "Regrets are for losers, remember?" She wasn't the only one who could say something without saying anything…

Gail blinked at him, unprepared for the retort or the memory it conjured, and it took her an instant to bury the creeping sadness enough to chastise, "And  _that's_  why I'm avoiding it; if you're going to insert yourself into the conversation at least try to keep up, okay?"

The subtle tap of Traci's foot to his own told Dov he hadn't imagined the delayed reaction. It took a little of the bite out of the words.

"Well, I'm done being your realtor," Andy quickly cut in, before the awkward subtext could become painful text. "Let some poor sap get  _paid_  to referee your dysfunctional relationship…" The balance of power between Gail and Bill made Andy's role-reversal with  _her_  dad seem downright normal.

" _Hey_ …" Chris murmured, head tilted disapprovingly at the brunette.

The comment didn't bother Gail – they'd been sniping back and forth at each other all day; Andy was almost tolerable when she was too tired to keep up the good girl act… "What? Hearing about when your dad  _wasn't_  the division exile isn't payment enough?"

The Inspector regaling them over dinner with tales from the 'good old days' had been the highlight of an otherwise fruitless afternoon. Pretending to get an idea Andy 'helpfully' shared, "Hey, if you find one who moonlights as a therapist you could probably kill two birds with one stone…"

'And if you can keep your dad sober long enough I could probably get a two-for-one deal,' was on the tip of Gail's tongue but it was excessively harsh, even if Andy  _had_ started it. "Whatever he is he'd undoubtedly be more useful than  _you_ ; one day and you're already ready to bail…"

With a nonchalant lift of her shoulders Andy teased, "Well, somehow I get the feeling it could be a  _hundred_  days and you  _still_  wouldn't find something that meets your outrageous expectations, your highness…"

"I'm not going to apologize for having higher standards than you," Gail patronized, even though her indecision had nothing to do with standards at all. When her dad had made the offer over breakfast (out of Elaine's earshot, of course) she'd accepted, mostly to prove to herself that Andy had no clue what the hell she was talking about. She'd been looking  _forward_  to it, even – getting an apartment so amazing she'd quickly forget those other places she'd used to live – and thought, if anything, that spending someone else's money would be a piece of cake. But somewhere along the way her anticipation had turned to apprehension, the prospect of suddenly being on her own, amazing apartment or not, strangely daunting. She would do it – there was no doubt; she just hadn't been able to do it  _today_ …

"You already said you like my place," Andy reminded her smugly, "You can't take it back now…"

Gail pulled herself from her thoughts to shrug, "Of course I can; I say a lot of things I don't mean just to humor you guys…"

"Since when?" Dov scoffed, absolutely certain the statement had been designed and delivered  _specifically_  to call her feelings for him into question.

 _Seriously?_  Giving him her most unaffected stare Gail didn't hesitate to supply a scathing, "Since the first time I spoke to you…"

 _Ouch._ Instead of celebrating Chris was cringing in sympathy, her tone like a thousand tiny ice daggers.

Dov tried to tell himself it was better than the silence; that she didn't mean it no matter how much she  _sounded_ like she did. Forced himself to defiantly meet her cool gaze even as he swallowed hard.

It could have been seconds or minutes before he finally looked away, beaten, and Gail buried the guilt she shouldn't even have been feeling. She hadn't wanted to hurt him – didn't have the strength to deal with him  _at all_  – and it was his own damned fault for provoking her. On the bright side maybe now he would leave her the hell alone… Heaving an internal sigh she took the folder from Andy and began casually flipping through it.

Even though the battle of wills had ended the atmosphere was still thick with tension, a pall having fallen over the group. This time Traci was just as speechless as the others, feeling responsible because Dov had only been acting on her advice…

"Hey," Chris finally broke the silence, equal parts uncomfortable and confused, "How come Frank's here?"

Glancing up Gail saw their SSG walking into his office with Noelle. "You guys are doing the scavenger hunt tonight…"

The blonde's voice was free of the earlier venom but Traci detected a hint of resentment in its place. "'You guys'?"

Dov was glad she'd asked for clarification because he didn't dare.

"Three of you," Gail amended with a disinterested wave of a hand. " _Whatever_."

And that cleared  _nothing_ up… Traci gave her best friend a puzzled eyebrow.

"Gail thinks her dad warned Boyd off picking her," Andy cautiously supplied. It was the one thing the Inspector had refused to yield on or cop  _to_ …

Gail shot the brunette an unhappy glare. "Future reference? Anything you overhear is privileged information…" Making general comments was one thing; giving all the gory details was another entirely.

Andy would have recommended they just not  _air_  their dirty laundry in public but wasn't willing to risk reawakening the dragon. "Come on – he's worried about you." That much had been obvious even if his involvement hadn't been. "It's actually kind of sweet…"

Dov subtly shook his head, trying to convey that it was the wrong tack to take. He knew from experience Gail didn't find  _anyone_ making a decision for her 'sweet,'  _regardless_  the reasoning…

"It's not sweet, it's  _offensive_ ," Gail corrected snippily, nose still in the file. "Just because Steve came back from it with a couple of busted up ribs he assumes  _I_  can't take care of myself." It was the closest he'd ever come to forbidding she join the force, their house a veritable war zone that day. A war he'd  _lost_ , obviously…

According to Steve the exercise was among the most dangerous – no weapons or money or backup – so Chris couldn't really fault Bill for wanting to keep her out of it. There was no way he was admitting that aloud, though…

"He's your dad, Gail…" And as the only parent there Traci felt obligated to defend him. "No matter how old you are it's his job to protect you…"

Gail let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah – better late than never, right?" Tossing the folder in Andy's lap she hopped off the desk and walked away.

" _Okay_ ," Traci huffed, turning back to the others, "Can someone _please_  tell me what the hell I'm missing?" Everything considered she was starting to get a bad feeling, and the fact that the others (at the very least,  _Dov_ ) knew what was going on but wouldn't tell her was only making it worse.

Chris shrugged. Even if he hadn't apparently been missing the same thing he knew Gail wouldn't appreciate them talking behind her back.

"It's nothing," Dov lied, "She's just using it as an excuse to get away from me…" Without waiting to see if anyone was buying it he took off after her.

"Epstein!" Noelle called out, coming up to him. "Frank is asking for you…"

"Can it wait?" It was probably a sign from the universe not to proceed but he'd never been very good at following those…

Noelle shook her head. "He has a meeting with Detective Boyd in fifteen."

"Go," Andy instructed, joining them. "I got Gail…" It beat sticking around and lying to her best friend…

Dov didn't want her to have Gail but he couldn't  _not_  go to Frank, either. Forcing a 'thanks' he switched directions and mounted the stairs to the SSG's office. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Have a seat, Dov," Frank sighed, putting the paper down. No matter how many times he read it the words remained the same…

Between the informality and the resignation in his voice Dov's mental alarms were going off. Sitting down he prompted, "Sir?"

Frank didn't know quite how to broach the subject so he just slid the letter across the desk.

Dov's heart instantly dropped into his stomach at seeing the Chief's seal. "What's this?" Something told him it wasn't a commendation…

"You're being transferred out," Frank reluctantly explained. "Effective end of cycle." The reason given didn't matter; they both knew it wasn't the real one.

"I don't understand…" Dov muttered automatically. He  _did_ understand, though. Damn  _well_ , unfortunately. He scanned the memo in silence, lump in his throat, searching for any indication that it was an error or some kind of prank; knowing instinctively he wouldn't find one. Because as surely as the order came from Collins' office it had ' _Peck'_  written all over it…


	22. Chapter 22

"Are you worried about them?"

Gail clicked her seatbelt into place while her ex-boyfriend slash current partner guided their cruiser out of the lot. "Worried about who?"

Normally Chris would assume she was just playing dumb to save face but she'd been off in her own little world since before parade. " _Who_? Our friends." Without giving her a chance to respond he tacked on a qualifying, "You know, the ones on a dangerous drug-hunting mission…"  _Duh._

Right – 'cause she had so many he had to  _specify_ … "Frank wouldn't have let them go if he didn't think they were ready." Unlike a certain Inspector their SSG was capable of remaining objective. But she wasn't bitter – it wasn't like she'd had her scavenger hunt alter ego picked out since she was ten or anything…

She'd turned to stare out the window – discussion apparently over – and Chris figured he was meant to take it as a ' _no_.' "Your brother was ready and look what happened to  _him_ …"

"Steve had something to prove," Gail waved it away, unconcerned. "He went looking for trouble and he got it." What he  _hadn't_  gotten was the validation he'd so desperately been seeking.

Chris gave her a dubious look she couldn't see. "We're  _rookies_. We've  _all_ got something to prove…" That was, like, the  _definition_  of 'rookie'…

"Why do I get the feeling you  _want_ me to be worried, Chris?" It was facetious – he and Andy must have attended the same school of subtle.

It wasn't that he  _wanted_  her to be worried so much as he thought she  _should_  be worried… After a few minutes of silence he voiced a diplomatic, "You were a little hard on Dov, don't you think?"

Obviously a quiet  _professional_  shift was too much to ask for lately… Wedging her elbow against the door she propped her head against her palm and scanned the passing streets. "What do you care? You're pissed off at him, remember?"

"Well,  _yeah_ ," Chris allowed, "but you were kind of…" He trailed off to find the right word. "… _mean._ "

Gail rolled her eyes at the lame finish. "Why don't you just come out and say it, Chris?" … _a bitch…_

He took the opportunity she presented to shrug, "I think he thinks we're back together…" Was almost certain of it, actually.

"So?" It wasn't what she'd been asking for but it wasn't all that surprising, either, considering the rumors (once more) going around. "Are you going to tell me there isn't some part of you that's  _happy_  he does?" Chris was a good guy – sometimes to a fault – but he was still  _human_.

That he couldn't deny it wasn't  _nearly_  as annoying as the way she kept responding to everything with a deflective question… " _I'm_ worried, okay? He seemed off…"

"He's  _Dov_ ," she offered automatically, "He  _always_  seems off." Besides, he'd clearly been 'on' enough to keep baiting her…

Chris turned to her, lips pursed disapprovingly.

Seeing it out of the corner of her eye Gail finally gave him her (incredulous) attention. "Seriously? You're defending him against  _me_?" It probably wouldn't bother her so much if she'd thought to invoke his inner big brother  _on purpose_ … "You need to get your head checked," she advised with a derisive click of her tongue.

" _Gail_ …" He wasn't sure why it was so important to him that she care – if his concern wanted company or because if she  _didn't_  it made their break-up even more depressing – but he needed her to drop the Ice Princess act.

 _Ugh._  In her most mechanical tone she inquired, "Whatever do you mean 'he seemed off,' Chris?"

The delivery left a lot to be desired but he figured it was as close to a win as he was going to get. "I felt bad about what happened so I went to tell him 'good luck' before they left…"

Gail was torn between irritation that he'd (essentially) apologized for her behavior and satisfaction that she'd (by design or not) gotten him to break the freeze-out. Either way, it was just more proof that his capacity for benevolence far exceeded her own… "Let me guess: he didn't appreciate your magnanimity?"

Chris' brow furrowed but he didn't ask for clarification. "He scoffed and congratulated me. I think he thought I was just rubbing it in."

The scene played in Gail's mind unbidden – the expression on Dov's face and the feigned indifference in the one word – and she told herself he deserved it (and  _more_ ) for what he'd done. "Did you tell him we  _aren't_  back together?"

Well,  _no_ ; he hadn't felt  _that_  bad… "I'm just scared he's going to get himself into trouble tonight, okay?"

Clearly not scared  _enough_ to have set him straight… "He dealt with us dating before, Chris; thinking we're dating  _again_  isn't going to send him off the deep end."

Chris shook his head; reminded her, "It wouldn't be the first time he feels like he has something to prove, Gail."

'Or the first time it has something to do with  _you_ ' was hanging in the air but Gail didn't know if she'd pulled it from Chris' tone or it was merely the product of her own (misguided) guilty conscience. She wanted to counter that Dov was a big boy responsible for his own actions (and their consequences) but  _couldn't_ , the breath caught in her throat at the memory of what had (almost) happened the  _last_  time he'd felt that way.

The lack of immediate argument told Chris he was starting to chip away at the walls. Switching out the chisel for a sledgehammer he quietly added, "And that was  _before_  we'd both shut him out…"

Gail blinked at him – the implication clear that now Dov had even  _less_  to lose – and suddenly she  _was_  worried. And she  _hated_  it. Hated that her hand had begun to move towards her phone of its own volition and hated that whatever she'd thought to do (to  _say)_ became completely irrelevant the second she remembered there were no cells allowed on the hunt. Hated that instead of being relieved it was out of her control she was overcome by a stomach-turning sense of powerlessness. They would need to come up with an entirely new word to describe just how  _much_  she hated being powerless… "He's going to be fine, Chris," she assured him, her voice conveying far more confidence than she possessed, as she turned her gaze back out the window. "Traci won't let him do anything stupid…"

* * *

"What do you mean you're taking off?" Traci demanded, grabbing his arm to stop him from following through. "We just got here…"

Dov stuck his hands in his coat pockets, the cold already setting in. "Time waits for no man, ladies," he paraphrased with affected pretension, "and neither does  _victory_." This was one competition he fully intended to win, if only to show Oliver and all those other doubters (and maybe remind  _himself_ ) that he didn't screw  _everything_  up…

Traci lifted an amused eyebrow. "Here's one for you,  _Napoleon_ : don't count your chickens before they're hatched…" Not quite as eloquent but every bit as appropriate.

Andy looked between them. "I thought we'd stick together; at least until we have a game plan."

"No offense," Dov begged off, "but unless you guys want to be my 'girls' one dude with two chicks is a little suspicious."

Giving his shoulder a light punch Andy playfully quipped, "Like anyone's gonna buy you as a  _pimp_."

He gave her an agreeable smile. "Which is why I need to find my own hook…"  _That_ , and he needed to be able to think without the distraction of them yapping the entire night.

The smile didn't quite make it to his eyes, and Traci thought this new funk might have had less to do with him not getting to talk to Gail than  _why_ he hadn't. "You going to tell us what happened with Frank?"

Not wanting to lie Dov settled for a half-truth: "He wanted to discuss my promising future."  _At another division._

" _Right…_ " Traci grumbled, her annoyance with all the secrecy resurfacing. "He just thought you could use a pep talk…"

Dov just shrugged. "Apparently I haven't been too peppy lately." He didn't want to say anything about the transfer until he figured out what he was going to do about it. As much as the possibility hurt he couldn't help but think it was Gail's way of ensuring he made good on his offer to do it in her place. And even though Frank had said he'd support him if he wanted to contest it Dov didn't think he  _could_  if it meant going back on his word.

Andy hated what the situation was doing to everyone involved but Dov definitely seemed to be getting the worst of it. Telling herself it wasn't taking sides – just stating an opinion – she shared, "If it makes you feel better I'm pretty sure they're not back together; when I asked Gail about it she told me not to believe everything I hear."

It  _didn't_  make him feel better. "That's just her way of answering without answering," he translated, shuffling his feet to stay warm. "A step below 'mind your own business,' if you will…"

"They didn't seem together to me." Traci couldn't disagree with his assessment but she didn't agree with what he thought it  _meant_ ; the blonde was just as likely to hide a harmless truth as tell a misleading lie.

Dov didn't see the point in arguing; if they  _were_  back together it was hardly his biggest concern at the moment, and if they  _weren't_  he was sure it was only a matter of time once he transferred out, anyway… "I'll meet you guys back at the barn, okay?"

All things considered Traci wasn't altogether comfortable with him going off on his own. "What are you going to do?"

"I've got a bus token," he announced, purposely misunderstanding the question, "I'm going to use it." To go  _where_  he didn't know yet but something would come to him.

Andy blew hot breath into her cupped hands; sighed, "Dov…"

And this was  _exactly_  why he needed time alone, tired of being treated like a wounded bird. He was a bear, dammit… "I'm  _fine_."

Traci wasn't buying it but she only had so much influence over him. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Don't worry about me," he advised, directing a thumb at Andy. " _She's_  the trouble magnet."

"I am not," Andy denied automatically.

Traci gave her a look, part disbelief, part sympathy. "Yeah, hon – you kinda  _are_."

Dov made his escape while the brunette put up a half-hearted (and ineffectual) defense.

"Dov!"

"Use this time to prepare yourselves for defeat, ladies!" he shouted over his shoulder, the distance between them rapidly growing. Not so much so that he didn't hear Traci's returning threat about where he'd be finding  _her_ feet, though… He continued his trek on autopilot, lost in thought, and it wasn't until he'd traded one bus for another that he realized where he was headed. And almost got right back off again because the very  _last_ thing he needed just then was to deal with the guy he still held partially responsible for Adam's death. But he knew that it was his best hope for success – a ready in and a sure score – and he couldn't  _not_  stay on the bus that would take him to Prohibition and a probable win. Still, when he got there, the trip having felt like hours and seconds all at the same time, he was disappointed to find Jeremy right where he'd predicted, more because it meant nothing had changed than because he had no reason not to go through with it. A plan to gain the dealer's trust forming Dov steeled his resolve and surreptitiously borrowed a cell from the bar proper to put it into play. Ended the call and muttered, " _Show time…_ "

* * *

"I gotta say, Kibbles," Jeremy marveled to his unexpected tag-along, "you're the last person I thought would be coming to me looking for a hookup…"

 _Why? Because you got my brother addicted to pills and contributed to his downward spiral?_  Dov buried the disgust he'd been feeling since walking up to the table, shrugging, "Desperate times call for desperate measures."

Jeremy shook his head without taking his eyes off the road. "No, I mean…" The kid had always been against drugs; that he would even touch them after… "Remember when we were young? You used to follow Adam around like a puppy?" Smiling at the memory he teased, "We had to leave the neighborhood just to get away from you."

Of course he remembered – it was the good old days, back when he hadn't realized just how screwed up his brother really was. Either Adam had been really good at hiding it or Dov had been really good at only seeing what he'd wanted to see… "I wanted to be just like him."

That was the  _last_  thing Adam had wanted… "He always said you were going to be a hotshot lawyer, getting your big bro out of trouble for the rest of your lives." Jeremy swallowed hard, wishing he had swallowed back the thoughtless words. "Are you some big hotshot lawyer, Kibbles?"

"Nothing quite so lucrative," Dov shared after taking a calming breath, "I work at a warehouse down by the docks." A  _repurposed_  warehouse closer to the docks than where they currently were, anyway. The back-story was at once realistically common, deliberately vague, and sufficiently truthful; you couldn't get caught in a lie if you didn't  _tell_  one…

Jeremy found himself strangely saddened by the news; covered it up with an easy, "Gotta pay the bills somehow, right?"

 _How gracious of the drug dealer not to look down on manual labor…_  "I guess me and Adam just didn't live up to each others' expectations."

The wry smile that accompanied the crude pun made Jeremy flinch. "Look, kid… you know I feel bad about what happened." He still thought about how it had all gone wrong sometimes; how (and  _why_ ) he'd lost his best friend.

Dov would almost believe it if the guy weren't  _still_  preying on people's weaknesses…

"We were what?" Jeremy continued, as much to convince himself as Dov. "Thirteen? The first time I stole pills from my mom?" For all he tried to block it out they could just as easily been eight or eighteen…

Even if the guy wasn't just thinking aloud Dov couldn't help with the timeline; didn't really  _care_ to know the details…

Jeremy ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I had no idea he'd take to them like he did." Pushing him to get more; to get  _different_  ones when those had lost their novelty. In some weird twisted way (that Jeremy tried hard not to think about) it was Adam that had set him along this path…

"Adam had problems," Dov allowed after a moment of agonizing reflection. "Pills were his way of trying to fix 'em." Turning to his window he focused on the scenery to gain some distance. "It didn't work."  _Obviously._

The car fell awkwardly silent, Jeremy at a loss for words. "This is where you get out, kid," he announced – not unkindly – when they (finally) arrived at his destination.

"What do you mean?" No way in hell had Dov suffered through that trip down memory lane  _just_  to go back to the barn empty-handed… "I can wait here – I don't mind."

Jeremy heard the veiled desperation; debated what to do while rifling through the center console for what he needed. Decided that while he had no intention of hooking the kid up he couldn't turn Adam's little brother  _away_ , either… "You can wait for me outside."

"But it's freezing out," Dov argued, furtively eying the stash.

"You can always go home…" It wasn't that Jeremy didn't trust him; it was just that in his line of work a healthy sense of paranoia was… well…  _healthy_.

Knowing continued protest would only make the guy suspicious Dov exited the car to sit on the hood; took advantage of the residual warmth from the engine as the guy disappeared into the house. _Damn_ , but it was cold _…_

Jeremy was surprised to emerge an hour later and find Dov still there (teeth chattering), but wouldn't let the show of determination sway him. "I'm still not giving you anything, Kibbles…"

"I'm good for it," Dov promised, climbing into the car as soon as the doors were unlocked and gratefully melding himself to the heated seat.

How many times had Jeremy heard  _that_  one before? And while extending a bit of credit was normally good business he was pretty sure Adam would find a way to come back from the dead  _just_ to kick his ass… Throwing the car into gear he sighed, "What'd you get yourself into, anyway?"

Dov detected disappointment with just a hint of judgment; felt a need to defend himself even though it was an act and the guy was just a lowlife. "It's not like that, Jer…"

It never  _was_ … "You came to me, Kid."

After a brief show of hesitance Dov admitted, "I got hurt on the job a couple weeks back. I just need something for the pain." Playing himself was working so far…

Most of Jeremy's customers were people looking to ease their pain; if the kid's problem was purely physical he had less criminal options: "Go to the doctor."

"I  _did_ …" Dov pulled the bottle from his coat pocket and shook it to show it was almost empty; took out a pill and dry-swallowed it for emphasis.

Jeremy studied him with the eye of a seasoned professional and deduced it to be a variation of Oxycodone. "So get a refill."

Since when were dealers so hung up on due diligence? "I already did," Dov explained, suppressing his irritation. "I'm afraid if I go back my bosses'll find out and they'll replace me with someone who  _doesn't_  have the back of a sixty-year-old." It almost scared him how easily the embellishments came.

Wondering how  _many_  refills he'd already gotten Jeremy challenged, "Your back seems fine to me, kid."

Dov shook his head. "When your job is on the line you learn to hide it."

Apparently subtlety wasn't going to get through to the kid when he had a rationalization for every  _insinuation_. "That shit's addictive, man." And susceptibility was usually  _genetic_ … "Are you sure you really need it?"

The not-so-delicate  _hypocritical_  accusation struck a nerve. "You never cared if Adam needed all the crap you gave  _him_ …"

Jeremy blew out a hard puff of air, the statement like a punch to the gut. Thankfully they'd arrived at his next stop.

When they pulled up to the building Dov got out of the car without being asked; talked himself down while he waited. "I'm sorry," he offered as soon as Jeremy reappeared, "It's just… you have no idea, man." He didn't even have to fake the despair in his voice.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Even if Jeremy hadn't felt he owed it to Adam he would have wanted to help the kid he'd once considered the annoying little brother he didn't have.

Dov didn't know if the invitation was in reference to Adam or the job; didn't know if he'd been  _talking_  about Adam or the job or something else entirely… "You know when you see your life going a certain way and then something happens and suddenly it's like it's all downhill?" Leaning his head against the cool window he added, "You get so far off track you have no idea how to get back?"

 _Too well_. After Jeremy's dad had left his mom had had no choice but to support them with the only skill she had; dealt with the fall from grace the only way she  _could_. If not for that there probably wouldn't have been any pills in the house  _for_ him to steal… "It's just a job, Kibbles; don't let it get you down."

So  _that_  was how they justified it to themselves: as  _just_ a job… "It's not  _just_  a job…" It was the only thing Dov had left going for him and now  _it_  was in question, too.

Jeremy glanced at him curiously. "What do you mean?" That was a little passionate for a warehouse gig…

"It's not just  _the_ job," Dov quickly covered. "I  _wish_  it were just the job…"

And  _that_  was a tone Jeremy knew well. "Who is she?" He glanced down at the 911 text he'd just gotten.

Dov told himself it was part of Jeremy's job to read people's weaknesses; it was in no way a reflection of how painfully obvious he was.

"Or 'he,'" Jeremy allowed when no answer was forthcoming. "I don't judge." He and Adam had had their suspicions…

" _She,_ " Dov confirmed, unbothered. It wasn't the first time he'd met that particular assumption. Well,  _that_ , and Gail was pretty much the furthest from dainty flower you could get and still have two X chromosomes… "The bosses' daughter."

Jeremy cringed in sympathy. "Anyone ever tell you not to mix business with pleasure?" No wonder the kid was having trouble at work…

"I'm not very good at taking advice." Or heeding warning signs. Or keeping his mouth shut. Or his foot  _out_  of it…

"So what's the problem?" Like Jeremy didn't already know: "Big boss man don't want you messing around with his little girl?"

"Nah," Dov denied with a shake of his head. "Her dad's cool; it's her mom that's the cougar."

 _Cougar?_  "Her mom's after you?"

Dov blinked at him. "What?  _No_." In hindsight 'viper' probably would have been more apt  _and_  less confusing. "Not like that. Not with  _me_ , anyway." He thought Chris might have had a different opinion…

Jeremy's head was starting to spin and he doubted it was from the product testing he'd done earlier. "So she doesn't  _want_  you, she just doesn't want you with her  _daughter_ …"

"I don't think she really cares." Taking pity on the guy (and his dazed look) Dov clarified, "Her parents aren't the problem." Not directly, anyway.

It was like a guessing game Jeremy wasn't really sure he could  _win_ … "Is the princess too good for the lowly warehouse worker?"

"She's too good for  _anybody,_ " Dov sighed, more resignation than admiration. "Tough as nails and a tongue like acid; you need a hazmat suit just to get near her."

Pulling onto the street of his next delivery Jeremy volunteered, "She sounds like a bitch." He wasn't surprised: the kid never could turn down a challenge.

"Oh, she is. But she isn't  _just_ a bitch…" Dov tried to think of a way to describe her but came up with nothing that didn't make him sound like a masochistic schmuck. "You'd have to know her without the walls. I got close before I screwed it up; told her how I felt and sent her running…"

"You were just being honest, kid," Jeremy reassured him, hearing the regret. "If she's gonna hold that against you maybe she isn't worth it."

Of all the reasons Dov had to consider her more grief than she was worth that  _wasn't_  one of them: "She was dating my best friend at the time."

 _Ouch_. Forget 'challenge' – that was a suicide mission… "Hold that thought," Jeremy instructed, as much because he had an impatient customer waiting as because he had no idea what to say. "I'll be right back."

Dov moved to get out but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"You can wait here, Kibbles." The kid was obviously going through enough without having to stand out in the cold all night.

"Thanks, man." No sooner had the door to the house closed behind the dealer than Dov started pocketing everything he could. He almost felt bad about what he was doing; almost wanted to stay and talk some more. Reminded himself that Jeremy  _wasn't_ the same guy he used to emulate almost as much as Adam and quickly ( _quietly_ ) took flight. He wandered the streets for hours – continuing the conversation in his head, not with Jeremy but with Adam – until he decided to go back to the barn. It was still early enough that the third watch hadn't returned and the first had yet to arrive so he sat on the bench in front of his locker with his head in his hands, thinking about how fast his life had gone to hell.

"Hey, man."

He looked up to find Chris standing in the doorway; wasn't as thrilled with the overture as he probably should have been. "Hey."

Chris relaxed against the wall, beyond relieved his friend was back safe and sound. If seeming a bit worse for wear… "How'd it go?"

Lips forming what he hoped resembled a satisfied grin Dov fibbed, "Piece of cake." It hadn't been the  _hardest_  part of his day, anyway.

"Good." So there was no room for misinterpretation this time Chris continued, "I'm glad you're okay; we were worried."

"We?" Dov repeated distractedly, getting up to change into his uniform now that his solitude had been broken.

Chris nodded. "You know: me and Gail. She wouldn't say it but she was on edge all night." Tone appreciative he shared, "Almost took a guy's head off for leaning against the squad."  _Hey, buddy! If you don't want my foot up your ass I suggest you get it off_   _my goddamned car!_

Dov just continued dressing. He'd spent enough shifts with her to know not to read anything into a short fuse.

Okay,  _now_ Chris felt bad enough. Pushing off the wall he admitted, "She didn't come back to me, man."

Twelve hours ago the revelation would have delighted Dov; now it left him completely cold. Still, he couldn't say he was  _sorry_  about it so he said nothing at all.

And that was  _not_  the reaction Chris had expected… Something was clearly up with his estranged BFF but he knew they weren't at the point yet where he could (or would  _want_  to) pry. "You ready? We can go together?"

"I still need a minute." In no mood for a half-hearted reunion – suspecting he didn't  _deserve_  it – Dov brushed away the olive branch being extended: "Go. I'll catch up."

If Chris had thought it was anything more than an excuse to get rid of him he would have offered to wait. "Okay," he reluctantly agreed, shuffling out of the room. "See you in there."

Dov watched him disappear before dropping back onto the bench and emptying the paper bag out onto his lap. Inspecting his boon for the first time there was no doubt in his mind that he'd made the hunt his bitch. But he felt no joy; no sense of accomplishment or triumph. All he felt was dirty and  _defeated._  One by one he replaced the bag's contents, setting aside the tablets stamped OP and picking them up again when he was done. Compared them to the ones in his pocket and thought how no one would even know the difference…


	23. Chapter 23

"So she's stable and her dad's on his way in from Kingston…" Buttoning up the shirt of her uniform Traci concluded her recap of the night's events with a somber, "Maybe this'll be the wakeup call she needs to turn her life around."

 _Yeah, right_ … Rather than waste her breath pointing out that it very seldom  _was_  Gail put it to work as a far more productive (not to mention  _gratifying_ ) puff of judgmental air. "I can't believe you just left her there."

That the blonde could appear so uninterested – semi-reclined on the locker room bench wearing an expression of abject boredom – yet still sound so  _critical_  didn't surprise Traci in the least. She  _was_ , however, confused by what had  _earned_  the reprimand… "If I'd stayed at the hospital longer I might have been late getting back." And Gail would have been the  _first_  to tell her to get her priorities straight.

"I'm talking about the girl who  _is_ going to be late," Gail clarified, the accompanying eye roll as much for the misunderstanding as for the  _reason_  Andy was conspicuously absent. "You do realize she went back to him, right?" There wasn't much that topped 'playing savior' on the brunette's to-do list.

 _Duh_ \- she would have to be blind and deaf  _not_ to… But she could also appreciate  _why_ : "She wants to spend time with him, Gail; they haven't seen each other in weeks."

Gail rolled her eyes again. "That's usually what happens when someone goes undercover,  _Trace_." It wasn't that difficult a concept to follow…

"I was in the middle of an emergency," Traci reminded her shortly, the tone (and  _truth_ ) putting her on the defensive. "What did you expect me to do? Drag her by the hair, caveman style?"

That was an acceptable course of action.  _Or_ … "Oh, I don't know – leave the medical emergency to the  _medical_  professionals?" Seemed to Gail keeping her BFF from committing career suicide would have taken precedence over twiddling her thumbs while some druggie got her system flushed… "Guarantee  _whatever_  you had to do would have been a cake walk compared to what the brass are going to do to her."

Traci lifted a dangerous eyebrow. "What? You planning on telling them?"

 _Please_ – she would have to consider Andy a threat to even bother… "In case you haven't noticed these things have a way of coming out on their own." Their recently failed relationships could attest to that… "If she's lucky it  _won't_  be because she blew his cover."

It was hard for Traci to disagree when she'd had all the same thoughts (and been similarly  _caught_ ) herself… "I know you're all 'I am woman, hear me roar' and everything but why is this all on Andy? Swarek's a big boy – he can turn her away if he wants to."

"And if he  _doesn't_  he's an even bigger idiot than she is." Of the pair Gail expected him to have a firmer grasp of the consequences. Not that the bar was set very high…

Traci sighed as she straightened her tie in the mirror. "They love each other, Gail; not everyone can just shut that off like you can." She instantly regretted the words; turned back to the blonde in time to see her flinch.

Gail raised a hand to pre-empt any forthcoming apology. " _Don't_. I told Andy she could tell you so you wouldn't think I was some victim, not so you could start  _treating_  me like one." That would chafe more than the comment itself.

It wasn't pity so much as a greater insight (and perhaps a bit of sympathy) but Traci doubted it was open for discussion. "Fine. You want me to say what I  _really_ think?"

Foregoing the  _obvious_  insult Gail settled on a facetious, "Depends – does the reading come with Wednesday's winning numbers?"

" _No_." Heir apparent to the Peck throne didn't need to win the lottery; she needed  _therapy_. But seeing as that was never going to (voluntarily) happen… "I think you aren't as worried about Andy as you are  _jealous_  she has the guts to do what you won't."

Gail let out a hearty snort. "Risk their lives and careers because she can't 'shut it off?'" The air quotes morphed into twin finger guns that she discharged with a condescending wink. " _I think I'm good_ …" The idea that a lack of self-control was something  _to_ be jealous of was simply absurd.

 _Ugh!_ Summoning a patience only years of motherhood could foster Traci stiffly corrected, "Go after what you want,  _no matter_  the risk…"

The undercurrent of frustration made Gail's lips twitch into a smirk. "Pretty sure that kind of thinking is why society is on the verge of collapse…" And not at all relevant to her own situation.

Traci rolled her eyes at the continued deflections. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

Before she could elaborate on what she  _did_ mean Gail gave a dismissive wave, unilaterally calling an end to the tangent. "You're supposed to be the rational one; it's your job to talk sense into them  _before_  they run off and do something stupid."

Aside from never having actually  _asked_ for the job? "Well,  _some_   _people_  just refuse to listen to reason." Or, you know,  _at all_ …

"Never pegged you for a quitter," Gail tsk'ed, shaking her head in exaggerated disappointment. "And dropping the ball twice in one night? We just might have to take away your 'bestest friend ever' coffee mug…"

 _Twice?_  She hadn't even  _seen_  anyone else that… Traci dropped the laces of her boot to shoot the blonde a look of utter disbelief. " _Seriously_? You're blaming me for Dov taking off?"

Gail cursed her inability to resist a good dig. "Dov's fine; Chris is with him now." Apparently he'd been the first back, all in one piece and no thanks to the girl in front of her. "Whether or not the same can be said for  _your_  BFF we'll just have to wait and see."

And suddenly  _Traci_ was the idiot for misinterpreting 'How was your night?' as an olive branch when it had evidently been an invitation to incriminate herself. She took solace in the fact that she wasn't the  _only_  one who had inadvertently 'confessed'… "Repeating it won't make it true, Gail; if you  _really_  thought he was fine you wouldn't be all bent out of shape right now." And using Andy as a convenient excuse…

"Who's all bent out of shape?" Gail denied, hackles rising at the accusation. "I was actually trying to figure out why they were spared the 'Nash knows best' intervention but I guess fucking with  _their_  lives just doesn't hold the same entertainment value…"

So  _definitely_  not an olive branch, then… Traci considered biting her tongue to keep [what was left of] the peace – mortified that all their conversations lately seemed to go from civil to volatile in less time than it took to say 'hypocrite' – but even  _her_  patience had its limits. "Gail, I'm not responsible for anyone else's choices – not Andy's or Dov's or  _yours…_ " Holding the blonde's icy glare she suggested, part snipe, part sincerity, "Instead of putting your guilt on me maybe you should just be glad he  _didn't_  run off and do something stupid..."

Gail exhaled slowly through grit teeth; got to her feet. "Don't say I didn't warn you when this ends badly."

"I could say the same to you," Traci shrugged, going back to tying her boots. "But we both know it wouldn't make a difference anyway."

It was a toss-up as to what irked Gail more: the sheer nerve of the girl or being summarily dismissed. Dangerously close to losing her temper she headed for the exit. "I'll meet you at debrief. Hopefully Andy'll be back by then to tell you what an awesome friend you are…"

As the door squeaked open Traci silently prayed that the migraine-inducing blonde wasn't proven right,  _least_  of all because they'd never hear the end of it…

Gail emerged from the locker room to find a worried-looking Chris holding up the opposite wall. " _What_?" she snapped, hating herself for the way her stomach had instantly knotted up.

"Uh…" Chris glanced nervously over her shoulder as she made her way towards him.

"Jesus, Chris, just spit it…" Gail stopped mid-sentence when a hand latched tightly onto her bicep from behind. Spinning around to confront its owner she barked, " _What the hell_?"

"Well, didn't you just take the words  _right_  out of my mouth…"


	24. Chapter 24

Gail emerged from the locker room to find a worried-looking Chris holding up the opposite wall. " _What_?" she snapped, hating herself for the way her stomach had instantly knotted up.

"Uh…" Chris glanced nervously over her shoulder as she made her way towards him.

"Jesus, Chris, just spit it…" She stopped mid-sentence when a hand latched tightly onto her bicep from behind. Spinning around to confront its owner she barked, " _What the hell_?"

"Well, didn't you just take the words  _right_  out of my mouth…"

Gail had never seen Oliver so angry – face tinged scarlet and veins popping – and if she weren't still so angry at  _him_  she might care to wonder what had happened in the last hour to set him off… " _Let. Me. Go._ " The presence of an audience kept her voice a low growl.

When their former T.O. didn't immediately comply Chris made to intervene with a somewhat tentative, " _Sir_ …"

Giving a sharp shake of his head Oliver steered her towards an empty room. "Stay out of it, Diaz."

Said the guy currently manhandling her over a situation that was  _at_ _best_  none of his concern, at worst  _all his fault_ … Gail wasn't surprised he was taking up for his little protégé (he'd made it quite clear where his loyalty lay) but she didn't have to  _like_  it, either… Motioning Chris to stand down she quietly (yet firmly) warned, "If this isn't about work I'm not interested."

"Frankly, my dear," Oliver hissed into her ear as they walked, " _I don't give a damn_." She was going to hear him out whether she was 'interested' or not.

She managed to restrain herself until the door had closed behind them, at which point she wrenched free and rounded on him with arms folded over her chest and ice in her eyes. "It's really cute you're all papa-bear 'Grr!' and everything but this  _really_  isn't any of your business."

Her exile from the barn hadn't been his business either and yet to this day he still wished he'd done  _something._  Not because he was naïve enough to think getting involved would have changed anything (except possibly his job status) but because if he  _had_  then maybe he wouldn't feel like he'd let her down somehow. As it stood her refusal to acknowledge they even  _had_  a history told him she felt the same; his own guilt had told him to respect that.  _Until now…_  "I didn't say anything when you walked in here with your nose in the air like you were better than everyone else. And I kept my mouth shut when you started leading him on because if he was going to be an idiot and fall for you there was nothing I could do to stop it…"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." The denial was automatic, even as she inwardly cringed.

"But I'll be damned if I'm going to just stand by while you ruin his life  _because_ he's an idiot who fell for you." He couldn't ( _wouldn't_ ) make the same mistake with Dov.

And with that she'd  _officially_  entered the 'melodramatic' portion of her morning… "If he  _lets_  this ruin his life? Then he's even more pathetic than I thought…" It would take a special kind of weak for him to wither and die just because he was getting the cold shoulder.

The cavalier attitude had Oliver's blood boiling. "You aren't just taking credit for his collar here, Peck! You're taking him away from the friends he's got left and forcing him to start all over again!"

Her brow scrunched up in confusion. "What are you talking about?" If anything all their 'friends' were on  _his_ side…

"Save the clueless act, princess; his transfer has your entitled little fingerprints all over it." That she would even pretend otherwise was an insult to his intelligence. "What I  _don't_  know is whether you actually deigned to soil the hands  _attached_  to those fingers or had daddy do the dirty-work  _for_  you…"

Shock took a backseat to outrage. "Careful, Officer Shaw…" Advancing a pace she frostily advised, "In case you've forgotten 'daddy' is also  _Inspector_ ; slandering a superior with false allegations is a good way to find yourself without a badge." He could say whatever the hell he wanted about her but her father was off-limits.

Oliver supposed the veiled threat was meant to intimidate him but all it did was strengthen his resolve. "I notice you aren't vehemently protesting  _your_   _own_ innocence…"

The way the discussion was going she doubted it would even make a difference… "He told me he was thinking of transferring out."

"And  _what_?" Oliver scoffed. "You were kind enough to help him decide?"

Gail had to remind herself that this man was  _her_ superior; forced down her hackles to tersely suggest, "Maybe he's saying  _I_ did it to save face 'cause he's running away from what  _he_ did…" A voice in her head traitorously volunteered that if he hadn't ratted her out for any of the things she  _had_  done surely he wouldn't blame her for something she  _hadn't_ ; she silenced it because nothing was making sense and she was barely holding her own  _without_  adding an imaginary argument to the mix…

Even if Oliver thought the kid capable of using  _anyone_  as a scapegoat (much less  _her_ ) there was one serious flaw with the theory: "He  _didn't_  tell me; Frank got the order from the Chief's office before shift and I just heard about it from Noelle.  _He_  told me to just let it go."

Anything after 'Chief's office' was white noise, understanding carrying with it a surge of nauseating guilt.  _Dov wanted to come after you himself but he got called in to see Frank…_ And she'd been too busy snarking to Andy about their sergeant's excellent timing to even question  _why_  she'd gotten so lucky… It was no wonder Dov had been 'off;' damn near a miracle he  _hadn't_ gone off and done something stupid in response. She only wished the uncharacteristic restraint could negate the stupid thing he'd  _already_ done.

"Nothing to say?" Oliver prompted, assuming the faraway look to mean she was searching for a plausible explanation.

Withdrawing from her thoughts Gail faked a casual shrug, the relief of finally knowing what was going on tempered by the reality of  _what was going on_ … "What's there to say? You already decided I'm guilty." She told herself it was the shoddy deductive skills that bothered her and not that he thought she would do it. Or that Dov probably thought the same… "I will recommend you stick to  _arresting_  the bad guys, though; figuring out who they are doesn't seem to be your strong suit."

 _Figure out?_ "It's not like this is some complicated 'whodunit,' Peck…" She was the  _only_  one with means, opportunity, and (more importantly) motive: "He wouldn't let you leave so you're making  _him_."

Gail let out a mirthless laugh. If he knew  _anything_ about her he'd know it wasn't even an option, not least (or most) of all because  _making_  Dov leave would send the message that she couldn't handle having him  _stay_ … "Those are some incredible blinders you've got on,  _sir_ – you might want to take them off before something bites you in the ass."  _Or you choke on your own foot…_

"Why don't you be a dear and tell me what it is I'm  _missing_ , then?" 'Cause it definitely  _wasn't_  her sly attempt to plant the seeds of doubt…

The contempt in his tone was echoed in hers. "Why don't you ask  _yourself_  who else has enough sway with the Chief to have Dov transferred without cause? Who he could possibly have offended  _so_  deeply – shooting off his mouth – that they'd  _want_  to. Who the only person  _less_  forgiving than I am is…" She didn't dare name her mother outright; probably would have just shut up and took the rap if not for the overwhelming need to smack him off his (undeserved) high horse. "But if you want to know who's  _really_  responsible?" Closing the distance between them she dropped her voice to a vicious hiss. "Look in the mirror –  _y_ _ou_  gave him the rope he used to hang himself."

Oliver would gladly accept responsibility if it were true. Hell, he  _wanted_ it to be true; for the indignation to be genuine and her hands to be clean. But it was all just too convenient. The  _perfect_  cover, really – complete absolution, no real way to verify her story without going to the Chief himself – and he couldn't help but think she'd had it all planned out in advance. Because even if Dov  _had_  offended the Superintendent 'so deeply' that she wanted him to pay (unfortunately  _not_  outside the realm of possibility) she was more likely to keep him in her own house where she could punish him  _slowly_ … "I don't believe you," he finally decided, taking no pleasure in the hollow victory.

It hadn't even occurred to Gail that he might  _not_ , and for the second time in as many minutes she felt like the ground had opened up beneath her. Afraid he'd be able to see it she quickly moved up beside him; put the painful lump in her throat to good use with a growled, "Frankly, my dear,  _I don't give a damn_ …"

"No…" Turning to watch her walk away he quietly agreed, "You  _wouldn't_ , would you?"

She stopped in her tracks; took a steadying breath before facing him with an eyebrow cocked.

"I think this is where I'm supposed to ask what happened to you. Say you actually used to  _give a damn_  about someone other than yourself…" He couldn't even begin to reconcile that sweet precocious little girl with the calculating and unapologetically cruel woman before him. "But it's not really a mystery, is it? It's no big surprise you ended up just like her."

The air fled Gail's lungs in a violent rush. Traci had taken a shot in the dark and landed a lucky blow but  _him_ … He knew  _exactly_ what he was accusing her of… "That's not fair," she exhaled weakly.

He would be more encouraged by the glimmer of emotion if he could be sure it wasn't just shock at being called on her crap… "Let me tell you what's  _not fair_ : You can't be bothered to take your head out of your ass long enough to appreciate that he  _knew_  what he was risking and did it anyway. He proved he would do  _anything_ for you – no matter what it costs him – and instead of being understanding or, god-forbid,  _grateful,_  your first instinct is to have him sent away…" The accompanying wave of sorrow was as much for her as for Dov. "Do you have  _any_  idea how messed up that is?"

"About as messed up as you lecturing me like I'm twelve again?" The scorn was more affected than authentic but it gave her the foundation she needed to regroup and ruthlessly counter, "Though while we're on the topic of 'fair' I have to ask: are you getting involved  _now_  because it's your precious Epstein or am I just a safer fight 'cause there's no 'Constable' in front of my name?" She refused to feel guilty for the wince she'd induced; if he hadn't wanted her to use the past as a weapon he never should have taken it out of the arsenal…

There was more truth to the implications than Oliver would have liked but reminding him what he'd done (or  _hadn't_ done) wouldn't make him forget what  _she_  had… "You know what the  _worst_  part of all this is? That he wouldn't change it even if he  _could_." Yet here she was with every opportunity to reconsider and no apparent inclination to  _do so_ …

That he'd avoided the loaded question was less surprising than that he was  _still_  trying to shame her into submission. Loath to give him the satisfaction (especially since there was nothing she could submit  _to_ ) she gave an indifferent shrug instead. "Well, you  _did_  say he's an idiot…"

And just when he thought she couldn't possibly get any  _more_  despicable… "You know, I wish I  _hadn't_  known you before…" Heart heavy with defeat and regret he sighed, "At least then I wouldn't be so disappointed with who you are  _now."_

Gail bit the inside of her lip to keep from reacting; promised herself his opinion meant precisely  _nothing_  because he was (quite happily) basing it off bad intel… But when he  _literally_  turned his back on her – opting for the other exit despite it being the long way around – the fragile façade crumbled and she uttered a broken, " _Ollie…_ "

Oliver's steps faltered at the (deceptively?) childlike plea but he urged his feet to continue out of the room.

Her crossed arms were more for comfort than defiance as she stared after his retreating form, only breaking from the daze with the sound of the door opening behind her. Willing her eyes dry she faced the unwelcome arrivals.

"What was that all about?" Considering she'd emerged shortly after the blonde to find a small gathering (and an embarrassed Diaz standing sentry to the sequestered pair) Traci thought she could be forgiven skipping the pleasantries.

For his part Chris was less concerned with  _what_  had happened than he was the glazed expression his ex-girlfriend was currently wearing. " _Hey_ ," he murmured, approaching her. "You okay?"

Gail cursed herself for whatever it was he saw that made him have to ask, the normally easy ( _natural_ ) task of burying her emotions proving exceedingly difficult. Moving to plan 'B' she  _embraced_  the feelings of helplessness and guilt and betrayal; fed them to the spark of anger until it burned high and hot and raw. "Where is he?" she demanded, brushing the gentle hand aside to push past them.

Chris flinched at the unexpected hostility; exchanged a confused look with Traci as they followed her into the hallway. "Dov? Still in the locker room."

The flood of gawkers parted before her like the Red Sea, their presence (and half-assed attempts to appear casual) only serving to fuel the flames. "Is he alone?"

"Uh…" Careful to keep a safe distance (not that hard in light of her determined gait) he directed his hesitant answer to the back of her head. "…No one's gone in since Shaw came out." He didn't dare tell her anyone heading that way had gotten sidetracked by the growing crowd; as it  _was_  he feared for anyone stupid enough to look at her sideways.

More curious than cowed Traci kept stride beside her. "What's going on?" She failed to see how Dov could have gotten the blonde in trouble when he'd been off the grid all night…

If there was ever a time Gail felt like sharing her (seemingly endless) drama now would definitely  _not_  be that time. "Don't you two have somewhere to be?"

"Yeah," Traci allowed, undeterred by the apparent dismissal. "Same place as you."

And if they were  _there_ instead of circling her like vultures they'd probably already  _know_  what was going on… The thought that soon the entire  _division_  would know – giving everyone yet  _another_  reason to believe she got whatever the hell she wanted – had Gail's fists clenching tighter at her sides.

Chris noticed the movement from his position behind her; was suddenly more afraid for his best friend than any careless bystander. Trotting up to the women he worried, "What are you going to do to him?"

Gail didn't answer, partly because she wanted to stay focused on her mission but mostly because she hadn't quite figured that part out  _herself_  yet.

"Gail?" he tried again as she started into the men's locker room.

" _Stay_." Just in case either of them ( _Traci_ ) decided now would be a good time to test her she closed the door in their faces and threw the lock.

Dov glanced up at the latest intrusion. He didn't know if it was because he was still numb or because it had become such a common occurrence but her barging in didn't faze him in the slightest.

Seeing him slumped over with his elbows on his knees – half-dressed despite how long he'd been there – Gail almost lost her nerve; had to remind herself that he'd gotten  _himself_  into this mess with his big mouth… "Give me it," she ordered by way of greeting, hand out expectantly as she stalked up to him.

Without a word he held out the baggie he'd palmed whenever someone had entered, not even pausing to question how she knew about it.

Gail looked at the proffered pills, brow furrowed, before meeting his blank gaze. "Not your  _score_ , Dov; the  _letter_." Liquid nitrogen would have been warmer than her tone.

Even if she  _hadn't_  been talking about the Oxy he couldn't help but be disappointed; had hoped she'd notice he was struggling and  _care_ … "What letter?"

 _What letter?!_  With a pronounced roll of her eyes she rifled through his locker until she came across his copy of the Chief's order. Skimming its contents (confirming it was  _real_ ) she breathed an incredulous, "What the hell did you  _say_  to her?" What  _could_ he have said in fifteen seconds to piss her off so badly?

Dov blinked up at her profile. "Say to who?" His mind was more than a little preoccupied and she wasn't exactly giving him much to go on…

Gail kept her attention on the paper so she wouldn't give in to the temptation to hit him. "My _mother_ , Dov. Can you at least  _try_ to follow along?" She knew it was unduly harsh but the fire was rapidly dying and if she didn't manage to stay angry she wasn't sure  _what_ she'd be.

There was but a brief second of relief – knowing she wasn't behind the transfer – before her words triggered in disturbing clarity what had been gnawing at him since his return. Skirting the edges of his consciousness yet never fully materializing: " _My mother_ …"

"Yes, Dov – that's what I  _said_ …" She turned to deliver the scathing conclusion to her remark but it got lodged in her throat, his expression so filled with shame and torment that she took an involuntary step towards him instead.

"He knows where she lives…" The awful realization had him jumping to his feet.

Gail automatically retreated, as taken aback by the sudden sharing of space as by the sudden outburst. "What?  _Who_  knows where my mother lives?"

Looking at her with wide eyes he shook his head. "I fucked up."

" _Ya think_?" She waved the letter she was holding even though she got the distinct impression they were having two  _entirely_  different conversations.

Dov swallowed hard. "No; I  _really_ fucked up." He hadn't even stopped to consider that Jeremy could retaliate through his mom… "I have to go."

"Go  _where_?" Gail huffed, almost dropping the baggie he thrust into her hands as he bolted past. " _Dov_!" When the only answer she got was the click of the lock and squeak of the door she growled in frustration, thinking how much she  _detested_  this recent role reversal where  _he_  kept leaving  _her_  standing in rooms trying to figure out what the hell had just happened…


	25. Chapter 25

Gail screeched up her parents' driveway before hitting the brakes and throwing her car into park with a violent jerk. Not bothering with her gym bag she grabbed the paper perched atop it and got out, slamming the door behind her.

Even if Bill hadn't been keeping a nervous eye out he would have had to have been deaf to miss the racket that accompanied her arrival. Taking a calming breath he met her in the foyer. "Morning, Love. How was your night?"

" _Not_  spent on the scavenger hunt," she recapped shortly. "Big surprise, right?"

Bill wouldn't bother pleading his innocence, partly because he  _would have_  intervened if he'd thought he needed to and partly because he knew she wouldn't believe him anyway; she was too suspicious by nature and too (spitefully?) blind to the limitations her appearance presented to accept the real reason she hadn't been asked to participate… Bending to kiss her cheek he placated, "I'm just glad you're okay." The night of Steven's hunt was not one he ever wanted to repeat.

That he wouldn't address his involvement one way or the other only made Gail  _more_  certain he was responsible for her exclusion from the exercise. He was just lucky she had a bigger bone to pick at the moment and it wasn't with  _him_ … "Where's mom?"

"Uh…" He hesitated, not entirely comfortable with the sudden change in direction. "She's in the solarium. But you don't…"

Gail cut him off with a wave of her hand, his fear of being tattled on all the more annoying for it being unnecessary. When he fell into step right behind her she tried very hard not to be (further) reminded of Chris.

Elaine looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps, met with her daughter's surly disposition. "You should really stop frowning like that, Gail," she greeted with a 'tsk.' "You're already starting to wrinkle…"

Before she could lose the resolve she'd spent the entire ride home bolstering (coming dangerously close when her mother went back to the newspaper in an unambiguous sign of dismissal) Gail slapped the transfer notice onto the table. "What is this?"

Sparing her youngest child an unimpressed glance Elaine scanned the document. "It's a little dense, asking questions you already know the answers to, isn't it? Clearly it's a Notification of Transfer for Officer Epstein."

Bill's sense of foreboding became a fixed knot of dread in his stomach.

"From the  _Chief's office_ ," Gail supplied, teeth clenched. "Why would the Chief want Dov transferred out?"

Why would her daughter  _care_ when there was supposedly nothing between her and the impertinent young man? "It says here it's a promotion for the meth lab bust…" Handing the paper back Elaine lifted a critical eyebrow. "You've been able to read since you were four, though, so I don't understand the confusion." Or why they were even having this conversation…

Gail denied the reasoning (and not-so-subtle rebuke) with a sharp shake of her head. "15 is practically the pride and joy of the TPA – how is transferring him out a  _reward_?" The pretense was so transparent it may as well have been coming from Andy's lips…

Elaine couldn't disagree with the logic nor did she have any inclination to. "You could call the Chief and ask him to explain it to you," she suggested breezily, "Though I can't imagine he'd appreciate you questioning his judgment…"

Hot tears of frustration prickled at Gail's eyes, well aware of what her mother was doing yet unable to defend against it. Quietly – almost  _meekly_  – she argued, "Whatever he said to you…"

"The Chief?"

" _Dov_!" Gail snapped, the feigned misinterpretation turning frustration to white-hot anger. "You can drop the smoke and mirrors act, Mother; it doesn't work on me!" And her night had been way too long to even pretend otherwise.

 _Smoke and mirrors act?_  "I don't think I care for your attitude, young lady." Her daughter was afforded far more leniency than anyone else but there was only so much insolence Elaine would tolerate, even from her.

The atmosphere crackled with tension, like his daughter's next move could set it alight, and Bill urged her to let it go via a gentle hand on her arm and a hushed, " _Love_ …"

Gail ignored him (and her mother's unmistakable warning) to fiercely counter, " _Too bad_  – I don't care for you punishing Dov just because he didn't grovel at your feet!"

Having reached her limit Elaine stood so they were level, the chair legs scraping noisily across the stone floor. "How  _dare_  you insinuate I would use my position to settle a personal slight?"

The only thing that kept Gail from backing down was the adrenaline coursing through her veins and years of repressed emotions fighting for release. "Well, that's how you work, isn't it? Manipulations and veiled threats and subtle machinations? Whatever you want by whatever means necessary?" Despite the voice in her head screaming at her to  _just. shut. up._  she hissed, "I guess the downside to teaching me everything you know,  _Superintendent_ , is that I know _you_ …"

Elaine gaped at the daughter she'd been struggling to recognize since her return. "I have no idea what's gotten into you lately but if it's that's boy's influence he can't be transferred soon enough."

" _Right_ ," Gail scoffed, "'Cause I can't  _just_ be fed up of you playing puppet master with everyone's lives…" Pointing a reproachful finger she promised, "Well, you pushed me on the wrong thing this time, Mother."

Secretly proud of her as he was Bill could only wish his daughter's stand came with less vitriol and more tact, knowing that when all was said and done she was going to regret her outburst. Before she could dig the hole any deeper he tried to lead her away. "Maybe we should…"

" _Don't_!" She rounded on him – breaking free of his grip – finger still crooked menacingly. "If you had  _anything_  resembling a spine it wouldn't have come to this. She controls us because we  _let_ her." Spinning back to her mother she lifted her hands in surrender. "Well, I'm done. You want the perfect kid to follow in your footsteps?  _Adopt_. Because I'm done pretending I can live up to your…"

" **Gail**!"

Gail flinched at the harsh sound of her given name on his lips; the gruff 'Sergeant' voice he'd never once used on her as far back as she could remember… "Don't," she whispered without turning, feeling all of eight inches tall. "Please don't defend her to me." Standing idly by was one thing but to take her side outright…

Her husband's intervention couldn't have come at a better time, her being at an uncharacteristic loss for words, but Elaine was far from grateful. Affixing him with an icy glare she chastised, "I was wondering how long you would allow your daughter to speak to me that way."

"Oh, shut up, Elaine," he told her over  _his_ daughter's shoulder.

The expression on her mother's face – features wide in disbelief and silent horror – would have been endlessly satisfying if Gail weren't absolutely certain it was mirrored on her own.

Elaine's teeth met with an audible 'snap,' her search for a suitable comeback resulting in a caustic, if delayed, "When you two have come to your senses you can come find me to apologize."

Watching his wife storm out Bill knew he  _would_ be apologizing, not only to her but also to the girl standing shell-shocked before him... "Lucy?"

Gail slowly shifted her gaze from the empty doorway to his solemn face.

"I'm the one who asked Richard to put the transfer through, Love…"


	26. Chapter 26

"I'm the one who asked Richard to put the transfer through, Love…"

Gail blinked at her father, struggling to process the words and gauge their sincerity all at once. She considered the possibility that she was in the middle of a very convincing, very  _fucked up_ dream; that any second now she would wake up in the cruiser, her increasingly surreal morning nothing more than the unfortunate by-product of sleep-deprivation paired with an overactive (and oft  _overlooked_ ) subconscious…

"Lucy?"

…Or if she was  _really_  lucky the dream had begun with the Oxy-induced tour from hell and just never ended, like a more persistent, more  _demonic_  Energizer bunny… Except that would mean she'd secretly  _wanted_ Dov to profess his undying  _whatever_  – or at the very least see what would happen if he  _did_  – and that notion wasn't any better than the prospect of the last month having been  _for reals_ …

Bill applied a light pressure to his daughter's arm, as unnerved by the blank stare as he was concerned by the lack of reaction.

Shaking herself from the reverie Gail fixed him with narrowed eyes. " _Why_?" As an afterthought, but no less emphatically for it, she added, "And if you say to protect me I  _will_  scream…"

It had been the main reason but not his  _only_  one, though he doubted she'd care to see the distinction. And even though the confrontation with Elaine seemed to have taken the spark out of his little firecracker he knew one push of  _that_  particular button was more than enough to set her off again…

The prolonged silence confirmed her suspicions. "You don't get to punish Dov either," she announced evenly. "I can handle him myself."

Oh, Bill was well aware of her proficiency at punishing people, having spent the last ten years being 'handled' himself… "I wasn't trying to punish him, Love."

"What?" Gail's lips fell into an offended pout. "Why not?" Just because he didn't  _get to_  didn't mean he shouldn't  _want to_ …

Amused by the capriciousness he put a tender palm to her cheek. "Because whatever the argument was about I am confident hurting you was  _not_  his intention." While his daughter's feelings took a little deciphering there was no such challenge when it came to the boy; it may have been a while but Bill could still recognize 'hopelessly in love' when he saw it…

Withdrawing from his touch Gail dropped into her mother's recently-vacated seat with a haggard sigh. "Dad, I'm not talking to you about this." 'This' was  _miles_ beyond the relatively indelicate matter of apartment hunting and she hadn't even been able to do  _that_ without a buffer.

"You don't need to," Bill offered, hiding his disappointment behind the shrug of broad shoulders. "You've said it all already." Way more than he'd expected her to, really.

The pointed tone made Gail's eyebrow lift. "What are you talking about?" God, how many times had she asked that same question (or some variation thereof) today? And why did she  _keep_ asking it when she invariably hated the answer when it came?

Easing into the other chair Bill gave her a teasing grin. "Come now, Love – I haven't been with your mother all these years without picking up a trick or two."

Yup –  _hated_ … Particularly because she could presume Dov  _wasn't_  the target of this particular 'trick.' "You  _didn't_ …"

He  _had_. Of course it hadn't gone  _exactly_ according to plan… "I knew you'd assume it was your mother's doing but I thought you'd just ask me to intervene on the boy's behalf." Never had he even  _considered_  her going directly to Elaine; apparently his little Luscinia was just chock full of surprises lately…

Gail narrowed her eyes at him, foreboding turned full realization. "You forced my hand to see what I'd do?"

"To show  _you_ what you'd do," he corrected softly (treading _carefully_ ), then gave her nose an affectionate tap. "In case you haven't noticed, Love, you can be a tad stubborn."

" _Seriously_?" If he were anyone else she would be feeding him that hand in the form of a  _fist_ , being emotionally manipulated right up at the top of her list of most-hated things. And it had  _a lot_  of competition… "What if you were wrong?" she posed with no small amount of contempt. "You would've messed with his career for nothing…"

Bill shook his head slowly. "Not for nothing, Love; I left his fate up to you." Unfortunately he'd had to put her back against the wall with no time to think, only react, to guarantee she didn't let her head overrule her heart… "If you didn't speak up I would know his transfer was what you really wanted."

Gail opened her mouth only to shut it, his gentle justification sucking the wind from her sails. Finally she managed a breathy, "I can't believe you'd do something so  _nepotistic_ …" Use his connections to get preferential treatment for his kids? Absolutely. But at the immediate expense of someone  _else_?

"He would have had his pick of divisions." By no stretch of the imagination was Bill a cruel man (he thought the kid was probably suffering enough as it was) but he'd been given a second chance to do right by his daughter and he hadn't been about to waste it… "I had to do what's best for  _you_."

As far as motivations went it was certainly more noble (and more [annoyingly]  _touching_ ) than having Dov transferred purely out of spite. It didn't get him off the hook, though… "You'll call the Chief?"

Her steely expression told Bill the phrasing was just a formality; that it wasn't really a question  _at all_ …"Of course I will, Love." She didn't need to know the plan had been a joint effort, borne Friday night of shared scotch and parental commiseration. Or that – even more than the  _success_  of said plan – he was eager to tell Richard their little girl had done what so far they'd only been able to  _fantasize_  about…

The room fell into tense silence as Gail contemplated  _his_  fate for daring to meddle in her life less than a week after she'd so graciously allowed him back in it; as she struggled to find a fitting punishment, not only for what he'd done but for all the  _trouble_  he'd caused. With her mom and Oliver and everyone else who (as it turned out:  _correctly_ ) assumed the transfer was because of her…

Bill waited semi-patiently for her to collect her thoughts and deliver her verdict. He hadn't anticipated her discovering his involvement but if the penalty for interfering was that he lost her again? Well, at least this time he'd be able to comfort himself that it was for the  _right_  reasons…

After a few minutes of fierce internal debate Gail shook her head in self-loathing. "I should be  _furious_  with you right now." She  _wanted_ to be furious with him – if not for herself then for Dov – but all she felt was  _numb_.

The knot of dread that had appeared in Bill's chest at the onset of her coup loosened, then dissipated entirely. While he'd been willing to pay any price to ensure her well-being he was infinitely grateful he wouldn't  _have_  to… "Admit it, Love," he teased, hiding his relief behind a practiced smile, "you're a little impressed with your old man."

What did it say about her (and by extension  _their_   _family_ ) that he wasn't wrong?  _More_  than a little impressed, actually; mostly because she never would have thought him capable of even  _coming up_  with such a scheme much less pulling it off. …Too bad it was all for  _naught_. "Nothing's changed, Dad." Turning her gaze to the grounds outside the window she quietly admitted, "You didn't show me anything I didn't already know."

"Really? So you already knew you…" He trailed off – not eager to find himself back in the doghouse – and mentally rephrased before continuing. "…care about him enough to go up against your mother like that?"

Without removing her eyes from the gurgling fountain Gail gave them a mighty roll, as much for the censoring of words as at the absurdity of the declaration itself. "You mean  _enough_  to jump to conclusions and sign myself up for months of groveling?" Enough to do  _exactly_  what Oliver had done? Damn but she hated losing the moral high ground. Especially since it wasn't very often she  _had_  it…

Bill leaned back to clasp his hands loosely atop his stomach. "Elaine has many pegs – she can stand to be taken down one or two."  _Or ten…_

Gail glanced at him, lips pursed in feigned disapproval. When the corners of his mouth quirked into an impish grin the façade became too much to maintain and it cracked, morphing first into a tentative smile, then a hearty chuckle as the memory took hold. "Did you see her face when you told her to shut up? I thought  _for sure_ she was going to swallow her tongue…" She actually  _might_  have if Gail had had the wits about her to throw out a disparaging, 'Close your mouth, dear – you're catching flies.'

Pleased to see his daughter loosening up Bill took the opening and ran with it, deadpanning, "As we speak she's on the phone with the city demanding they test the water supply…"

"Or the lawyer, having us written out of her will…" It probably shouldn't have been funny but it  _was_ , made even funnier because, all joking aside, neither scenario was altogether outside the realm of possibility. Gail probably should have felt bad about her outburst but  _didn't_ ; it had been a long time coming and she was going to enjoy the sense of freedom, false as it was, while it lasted…

As their laughter slowly faded into an easy silence Bill took the opportunity to memorize every detail of his daughter's face. She looked tired – testament to the toll it was all taking on her – but her cheeks were flushed with color and there was a rebellious twinkle in her eye he hadn't seen in what felt like  _forever_.

Gail shifted under the weight of his stare, suddenly self-conscious. "What?"

"Nothing," he answered quickly, afraid to break the spell that had accidentally been woven. Reconsidered because he might never get another  _chance_ … "I just missed you, Love. I'm taking it in before you disappear on me again."

The double meaning wasn't lost on Gail, and she had to bite back a retort about  _his_  part in her so-called 'disappearance.' Forcing down her hackles she offered a poised, yet pointed, "Well, if you keep this up I just might stick around…"

Bill didn't know if she meant having her back with Elaine or not passively allowing himself to be excised from her life (or  _both_ ) but he got the message loud and clear. Despite the use of subtext he suspected it was the most candid they'd been with each other in years. Without a doubt it was the  _closest_ he'd felt to her in years… " _Come gather 'round people, wherever you roam…_ "

"What are you doing?" she demanded, brow furrowed with confusion.

"… _And accept that the waters around you have grown…_ " He held her eyes as he stood; saw the recognition dawn as she placed the lyrics.

The furrow immediately transformed into an accusatory crease. "You're not even singing it right." He wasn't really  _singing_  it at all…

Undeterred by the insult he motioned for her to join him. "… _And accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone…_ "

Gail shook her head in mock-solemnity, in response to the invitation  _and_ the situation. "Bob's spinning in his grave, Bill."

Last he'd checked Bob was still kicking but going by her amused smirk she was taking dramatic license. "… _If your time to you is worth saving…_ " Taking her arm he pulled her up next to him. "… _Then you better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone…_ "

When he nudged her foot with his own she understood where it was going; shook her head with more vigor. "Dad,  _no._ I'm too big for that." And, like, twenty years too _old_ …

She would  _never_  be so big that she stopped being his little girl… "… _For the times they are a-changing…_ "

Her foot was nudged again, this time in conjunction with an exaggerated pout, and Gail gave in with a roll of her eyes. "You're nuts; you know that, right?" Stepping onto his feet she hooked her arms around his neck. "I'm embarrassed  _for_  you right now."

Bill didn't care if dancing his grown daughter around the room made him nuts, or  _her_  embarrassed, or that anyone watching would probably declare it awkward and inappropriate; he only cared that she was humoring him without (too much) of a fight… "… _Come mothers and fathers throughout the land…_ " Gripping her waist to help her balance he began to move them in small circles. "… _And don't criticize what you don't understand…_ "

Gail barely noticed he'd skipped most of the song, her mind pulled back to the days she'd spent perched at the edge of his desk with her own 'paperwork,' the radio playing softly in the background. The times he'd announce a break was in order and turn it up louder; spin her around the room until she was dizzy and him out of breath.  _Before_  she'd convinced herself she didn't need those things – or  _him_ – anymore…

"Sing it, Lucy," he urged, drawing her attention back to him with a gentle squeeze of his fingers.

The stinging in her eyes got stronger as she found her place and realized just  _why_ he'd jumped ahead a few verses. Blinking to keep the tears at bay she croaked out a faint, " _Your sons and your daughters are beyond your command_."

Bill nodded in satisfaction before leaning his head on hers, chin to temple, and closing his eyes. " _Your old road is rapidly aging – please get out of the new one if you can't lend your hand._ "

" _For the times they are a-changing…_ " All at once it hit Gail that she'd missed out on years of  _this_ and she didn't know how many they had left. That as much as she'd been punishing him she'd been punishing  _herself_ , too.

Hearing her sniffle Bill pulled back to wipe the dampness from her cheek with a tender thumb. "You don't know how proud I am of you, Love." Prouder than he had any right to be, he was sure.

Ironic that the words she'd always longed to hear would send a wave of panic coursing through her veins… Burying her face in his neck she mumbled, "I'm  _scared_ , daddy." Of things changing; of them staying the same. But what  _really_  scared the hell out of her? That  _she_ was changing and she wasn't sure she was ready to or how to make it  _stop_ … "I don't know who I am anymore," she whispered into his freshly-washed skin.

Bill stopped moving and eased her away to force eye contact. "You are Gail Augusta Peck – my little Luscinia – and I think you know  _exactly_  who you are. You just lost yourself for a while." And he was riddled with guilt at having done nothing to prevent it.

She detested how over-the-top it all sounded, like something straight out of an episode of  _Dr. Phil_... "Please don't offer to help me 'find' myself." She'd lock him in a cell with Andy so they could psychoanalyze  _each other_  to death…

Chuckling at the disgust – palpable even through her tears – Bill shook his head. "You already  _are_ , Love, but it's no thanks to me." Sadly that honor went to others; all he could do now was stand behind her so she wouldn't slide backwards. Do what he should have done the  _first_  time around… "The question is whether or not you  _want_ to find yourself, Love."

 _If only it was that simple…_  Gail stepped off his feet with a sigh, knowing they could pretend for a while but, as much as he might wish it, she would  _never_  be that little girl again. Too much had happened since to make her who she was and the clock couldn't be rewound; the parts she'd lost too far gone to ever be recovered, replaced with parts too deeply ingrained to ever be undone… "Like I said," she began sadly, giving his cheek a half-hearted tap. "…nothing's changed."


	27. Chapter 27

Dov woke with a start, the sound of his mother's agonized screams replaced by that of blood pounding loudly in his ears. He studied the living room ceiling for a second – reassuring himself it hadn't been real – then closed his eyes and waited for the physiological effects of the nightmare to pass. Unfortunately the reprieve lasted only as long as the temporary deafness, muffled voices drifting from the back of the house setting his heart hammering against his ribcage anew. It would be just like his mom to invite Jeremy in for coffee or juice.  _Or a full meal_ … Yanking his gun from beneath the couch cushion he quickly headed down the hallway.

" _Poor thing hasn't been sleeping much lately; this fight with Christopher is really weighing on him. I wanted to see if there was anything you could do but I couldn't find your number in his phone…"_

So  _not_  Jeremy then… Reaching the kitchen Dov saw Gail just as she opened her mouth to respond. The tightness in his chest loosened only slightly.

"If it's not under Peck it might be under Casper or Frosty." 'Bitch who broke my heart and tried to ruin my life' might have been an equally strong contender if not for its length… Noticing the subject of their conversation hovering in the doorway – weapon drawn – Gail lifted a questioning eyebrow.

" _Casper_. I remember seeing it when I was going through and thinking 'what kind of name is that?' But I spent most of my youth as 'Misty' so who am I to judge?"

Dov tucked the gun into his sweatpants and covered it with his t-shirt. "Mom, I told you not to open the door to anyone."

The eyebrow went from questioning to offended. "And hello to you, too, Sunshine…" Gail hadn't expected to be welcomed with open arms but to be summarily ignored? She didn't do well with  _ignored_.

"Oh, don't mind him – he's not a morning person. Though I guess you already know that …"

Thankfully Gail didn't need to address that cringe-worthy comment because the woman had already turned back to her son.

"It's not 'anyone;' it's  _Gail_. Christopher's shown me enough pictures that I'd recognize her anywhere."

 _Double-awkward_ …

Her opening the door to someone just because she knew who they were was  _exactly_  what Dov was afraid of… He couldn't tell her that, though, so he remained silent.

Gail froze when her chin was seized between nimble fingers, her face studied animatedly.

"I have to say the few with your eyes open don't do the color justice. They're _magnifique…_ "

 _The few_? They'd just gone from awkward to uber _creepy_ , though Gail didn't know whether she was more squicked out by the woman's attention or having been secretly photographed in her sleep… "Um… thank you?"

"I got stuck with these boring brown eyes. That's the one thing I  _will_  say Dov was lucky to get from his father; they're what first drew me to him…"

Gail chose to believe the last 'him' referred to Dov's father and not Dov himself, having just about reached her limit of awkward  _and_  creepy.

As gratifying as her discomfort was Dov decided to intervene, partly because he didn't want the discussion turning into a tirade against his dad and partly to satisfy his own curiosity. "What are you doing here, Gail?"

 _Besides_ being manhandled and traumatized? "You missed the last two shifts…" Extricating herself from the woman's grasp Gail pulled his never-retrieved cell and wallet from her coat and placed them on the center island between them. "People are worried."

Not ' _we're_  worried' but ' _people_  are worried;' he wondered if she was just too proud to acknowledge she was included or if it was her way of telling him she  _wasn't_  but had been voted ambassador anyway… Crossing his arms over his chest he shrugged, "I'm taking sick days."

Gail matched his stance and raised him an unimpressed purse of her lips. "Well, you're obviously not sick so you must be  _sulking_." She could accept him needing a day to get over the transfer drama, but  _two_?

"Why would you be sulking?"

"I'm not sick  _or_  sulking," he informed them tersely, anxious to put an end to the interrogation. "My back's just been acting up."

How Gail had managed to forget the injury that had set everything in motion she didn't know, but she  _did_ know the stress of being transferred couldn't have helped his condition any… Realizing the new orders might only have come down  _after_  he'd phoned in she warily confirmed, "Frank got a hold of you?"

"Got a hold of you for what?"

Dov nodded then gave his mother a feigned smile. "To congratulate me on winning the scavenger hunt."

"That's great, baby! Why didn't you tell me?"

Gail tilted her head from behind the beaming woman, understanding it was easier for him to lie but hating how easily the lie had  _come_ … "He almost beat division record," she elaborated faux-casually, her pointed gaze never leaving his. "Everyone's pretty impressed." If not for the overwhelming feeling that  _how_  he'd done it had something to do with why he was acting so  _weird_  she might have been one of them.

Despite the deceptively even tone her suspicion was palpable, telling Dov she'd come to get answers and wasn't satisfied with the ones he'd given; that she wouldn't let it go until she  _was_ … "Mom, we're going to my room." He pressed a kiss to her cheek to forestall any arguing.

"Okay. I'll call up when breakfast is ready. Gail, we only have brown bread – is that okay?"

Still recovering from the prospect of being alone in his bedroom Gail shook her head. "Oh, you don't have to do that, Ms…" She trailed off, not knowing how it worked – whether he had only gotten his mother's religion or her name, too – and afraid to offend by calling her the detested ex' name.

"Call me Agi; 'Ms.' makes me feel old…" Sensing the blonde's distaste she joked, "Now you know why I went by 'Misty'…"

Gail wasn't entirely sure she would have preferred the stripper name but to each their own. "I wouldn't want to be any trouble." Or be there long enough to partake…

"I enjoy cooking for others," Agi promised as she reached up to ruffle her son's hair. "It's why I'm so happy to have my Dovey home." The house had been way too big and empty without him.

The expression on his face – equal parts annoyance and resignation – had Gail pressing her lips together to stifle a laugh; it transformed into a snort and exited through her nose instead. "She wouldn't be able to do that if you got rid of that mop, you know."

Yeah, 'cause getting a haircut was  _right_   _there_  at the top of his list of priorities…

He clearly wasn't amused and she swiftly sobered. "I won't be staying for breakfast. Thanks, anyway."

"And  _I_ won't take 'no' for an answer. Now run along so you two can talk and I can get started."

Before Gail could (invariably) launch another protest Dov shook his head at her. "Forget it – when it comes to feeding people she's the only person more stubborn than you are."

There was a distinct absence of warmth there and Gail sincerely doubted it was only because his mother was present. Swallowing the lump in her throat she gave the woman a wan smile. "Brown is fine." As she followed Dov up the stairs she was already planning her escape route; forgot it the instant he opened his door to kiddy posters and a racecar bed. "What? Were you twelve when you moved out?"

Dov scoffed. "Like your room wasn't made up for a princess? Pure pink and a canopy bed?"

She was more disturbed that he knew what a canopy bed  _was_  than that he really should have known better… "For my thirteenth birthday I got a cherry wood set I had to polish every Saturday for the next five years. And I  _still_ would have taken that over pure pink and a canopy bed."

Hating that she hadn't taken the bait Dov perched atop a headlight with a sigh. "My mom was worried the separation was making us grow up too fast so I kept it like this."

That he'd even thought to do that only proved his mother had been  _right_ … Gail turned to study a random picture on the wall so he wouldn't see the pity; changed the subject before she could do something stupid like comfort him. "I'm guessing you didn't tell her what the fight with Chris was really about?"

"No." His mom was cool but she wasn't so cool as to be cool with him betraying his best friend… "I told her it has to do with work."

Gail nodded absentmindedly as she continued her exploration of the cluttered room. "Are you going to tell me the  _other_ thing you're not telling her?"

And  _Snap!_ went the trap, hers sadly more effective than his had been. Too late to avoid it he tried to wiggle free with an affectedly confused, "What are you talking about?"

"You came into the kitchen with your gun drawn, Dov." Looking up from the badminton trophy she locked her eyes onto his. "And since you didn't shoot I'm going to guess it wasn't  _me_  you expected to find…" Factor in the instructions not to open the door and it didn't take a genius mathematician to figure out his story just wasn't adding up…

"There's been a rash of robberies in the area," he fibbed, waving a dismissive hand.

"Really? Do the robbers  _usually_ hit in broad daylight and stop to chat it up with the robbees?"

"Never can be too careful…" Dov knew he was just delaying the inevitable; that while the last thing he needed was her to find out about Jeremy – to get her involved or have to deal with her reaction – once she caught a scent she wouldn't stop until she found the prey it belonged to. Especially not if, while devouring said prey, she could 'enlighten' it to all the things it had done wrong to  _get there_ …

It was ridiculous that he was continuing the charade (she'd  _gone_  to work – she  _knew_  there was no such 'rash of robberies') and the more he hedged the harder it was for her not to let loose the harsh 'What did you  _do?_ ' that was occupying the tip of her tongue. But she managed. "Where'd you get the stash, Dov?"

Nope; no wiggle-room there… Reconciled to the imminent 'devouring' he admitted, "I stole it from a dealer."

Gail rolled her eyes. "No,  _seriously_." Not even he was  _that_  stupid.

Figures he'd tell the truth and she wouldn't believe him; probably didn't even think him capable of pulling it  _off_ … "Fine – I knocked over a drug store."

Calming breaths only went so far, her patience wearing dangerously thin. "I'm not kidding around, Dov."

"Neither was  _I_ , Gail" he bit back, the combination of doubt and disdain hitting an exposed nerve.

Gail blinked at him until it sunk in that he  _was_ that stupid; embraced the anger when it presented itself. "What the hell were you  _thinking_? 'Cause I'm going to take a wild shot in the dark here that you had to cozy up to him without a weapon…" Memories of her brother, beaten and bloody, came unbidden.

Dov stood so they were toe-to-toe. "I  _wasn't_  thinking, okay? I wanted to  _win_!"

"Well, that's just great, Dov," she spat, not yielding any ground. "I hope the hollow victory you weren't there to celebrate was worth it!" He was  _lucky_  he hadn't ended up like Steve.

It wasn't anything he hadn't said to himself the last three days (a million times over, even) but coming from her it was salt in a wound she'd created… "I  _needed_  the victory, Gail! I needed to know I could do something _right_!" Passive aggressive or not, he had to remind her, "For all I knew I was being transferred out at the end of the week!"

Gail's anger instantly evaporated – leaving only shame in its wake – and she shook her head in denial. "Dov, I had nothing to… I wasn't behind the transfer." It didn't make her any less responsible but it was all she had.

Well, he knew that  _now_ ; a misunderstanding that could have been avoided if she hadn't been avoiding  _him_  like he was already gone. But since she  _had_ … "I thought you  _were_. And if I was going out it was going to be with a bang."

" _You_   _could have_!" she hissed, fists clenched to keep from punching him for the horrible image he'd so casually (intentionally?) invoked. "Damn it, Dov – what if you'd been  _made?!_ "

"Would you have even  _given_  a shit, Gail?!" He didn't care if it was fair or not – it was how he felt.

Gail flinched as though she'd been slapped. If the fact that she was standing there fresh off a twelve-hour shift hadn't tipped him off, then… "It's fine, though, right? You were undercover – you gave him a fake name and if you ever run into him on the job you'll have a gun and backup…" He was just overreacting because he was tired and bitter and in pain.

Dov wasn't surprised she'd ignored the question; wished he could say it was simple spite that had him going over to the window without answering  _hers._

A knot of dread appeared in her stomach, his uncharacteristic silence speaking volumes. "Dov, what did you  _do_?"

The waver in her voice – arguably proof she  _did_ 'give a shit' – only served to make him feel worse. Scanning the street for anything amiss he quietly conceded, "It was my brother's dealer…"

" _Jesus_ , Dov." She didn't need to ask what that meant, his babbling from their last meeting becoming increasingly ( _regrettably_ ) clear. Why could he never screw up 'a little bit' like normal people?

"You don't need to say it, okay?" It was the stupidest thing he'd ever done. And that was saying  _a lot_ … "I know I'm an idiot."

Oh, no… This went  _way_ beyond 'idiot.' At least the meth lab debacle was over when the IED was disarmed; not only was  _this_  bomb still active but he wasn't the only one in the blast radius.  _Worse,_ he didn't seem to be doing anything  _about_   _it_ … "So what's the plan here, Dov? Quit your job and play private security until the guy gets himself killed?"

"Hey!" he snapped, rounding on her. "I know better than to expect sympathy but can you at least stow the sarcasm?" Maybe she would prefer he'd followed through on his  _first_  plan to pack his mother up and move her to Montreal…

Gail  _needed_  the sarcasm and the scorn and the frustration – they were the only things keeping the  _panic_  at bay… "I'm  _trying_ , okay? But you're just always letting your emotions run you. You're like Epimetheus freakin' reborn and I just don't _get it_." He was the  _epitome_  of afterthought, only ever recognizing the error of his ways once Pandora's Box had already been opened…

Apparently 'trying' meant using mythology to insult him instead of doing it  _outright_ … "You know  _why_  you don't get it, Gail? Because you have no emotions  _to_ run you! Even Xena took time out from being a frigid bitch every once in a while!"

Only through immense effort was she able to force her hackles back down. "Really? All the frigid bitches in the pantheon and you pick a fictional character that didn't even exist until the '80s?" She lifted a wry eyebrow; chastised, "You couldn't have given me Athena or Hera? Hell, I would have taken a  _demi_ god…"

Dov blinked at her disbelievingly. "You're really going to do this right now?" She knew what he was going through and she was  _still_  mocking him…

"I'm trying to balance out your crazy," she explained, not unkindly. "Being defensive isn't going to get you anywhere."

His  _crazy_? "I put my mom's life in danger 'cause I was so desperate to win a stupid competition…" Running a shaky hand through his hair he defended, "I think I'm allowed to be freaking out a little bit!"

It suddenly occurred to Gail that her fear for him was nothing compared to his fear of what might happen  _because_  of him; that maybe what  _he_ needed was more important at the moment than what  _she_  did… "We're going to find a way to fix it, okay?"

"I don't need you fixing it for me." She already thought she was the only one capable of doing anything right; he didn't need to give her  _proof_.

"I said 'we,'" she pointed out, positioning the desk chair to sit backwards. "Now how well do you know this guy?"

The abrupt change of gears made his head spin. "Gail…"

"Dov, if you don't let me help then you really  _are_  an idiot." It wasn't an attack, just the truth; he was obviously too close to the situation to see it straight.

Dov sank down onto the bed, drained of all will to fight. "Jeremy. He was Adam's best friend growing up."

For the first time since she'd walked into the house Gail felt relief. "That's good, right? It means he's less likely to retaliate…"

"I just took the guy for thousands, Gail – something tells me he's not feeling the brotherly love right now." Regardless how Jeremy felt about Adam that was still a bitter pill to swallow…

 _Fair enough…_  "But do you really think he'd hurt your mom to get to you? She's Adam's mother, too." Drug dealer or not, there had to be  _some_  loyalty there…

That same question had been monopolizing his thoughts since Sunday and he was no closer to an answer, one way or the other. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "I don't think so but I can't take that chance." What if he did and he was  _wrong_? Came home after shift one day to find a 'message'…

" _Hey_ ," Gail whispered, seeing him start to get agitated again, "It's  _okay_ …" She needed him to concentrate on the  _source_  of the problem, not the possible outcomes; if this Jeremy guy really  _was_  a threat their energies were better spent figuring out how to neutralize him… "Is he connected?"

Dov broke free of the mental image. "Connected?"

"Mafia. Street gangs. Is he low- or high-level?" i.e. Was it just the one guy or did they have to worry about his 'friends' too?

"As far as I know he's still a one-man show." Jeremy never had been very ambitious…

And  _that_  was the best news Gail had heard all day… "Then we arrest him; he's away and you and your mom are safe." Easy, peasy.

Dov shook his head; had already had (and discarded) the same idea himself. "That'll just piss him off more. Just because he's not connected doesn't mean he can't arrange something from the inside."

 _True…_  So if there was no way to guarantee Jeremy  _couldn't_ retaliate their only option was to make sure he didn't _want_   _to_ … She propped her chin on folded arms and set to figuring out  _how._

Watching her subconsciously worry her bottom lip – deep in thought – Dov felt the walls he'd managed to put between them begin to crumble. His fingers were a mere inch from an errant strand of hair when her head shot up, startling him.

"I've got it…" She rolled it around her mind one more time before sharing aloud, "You tell him the truth: that you're a cop and you  _are_ connected."

He looked at her like she'd gone mad. "You want me to blow  _my own_  cover?" Wasn't she  _just_ yelling at him because he could have been made?

"It's nothing he couldn't find out on his own, Dov." Google was surprisingly helpful when you had more to go on than 'floppy-haired dude that ran off with my drugs… "Lay your cards on the table; put  _him_ on the defensive."

She wasn't wrong but he was hardly convinced. "What if he thinks I'm threatening him and it just makes things worse?" Tossed whatever mercy 'Kibbles' got out the window and made his mother more of a target?

Gail got that he was scared but they had to do  _something_. Otherwise he and his mother really  _were_  going to be those ladies from  _Grey Gardens_ … "Dov, the guy's probably already looking for an excuse not to come after you – you'd just be giving him one."

And if he  _wasn't_? Was it worth the risk? "I don't know…"

"Well, you  _need_  to know." Reining in her growing frustration she adopted a softer tone. "You're the only one who can say if it'll work or not…" She could hazard a guess given the info she had but she really didn't know this Jeremy guy from any other POS dealer out there.

Dov wasn't sure if it was his instincts that were telling him it could work or just wishful thinking. Wasn't sure, even if it  _was_  his instincts, that he should trust them…

Witnessing the struggle play across his features – deliberation then doubt then defeat – Gail realized that right then he might not be any more qualified than  _she_ was… "When was the last time you slept? And I don't mean your little  _siesta_  on the sofa."

He hadn't gotten a solid six in days but for the last two he'd only been able to nap off and on, as much for the nightmares as for the need to be vigilant. Still: "I'm fine."

"You're  _not_  fine." His eyes were glassy and having trouble staying focused; whether it was due to the stress, lack of sleep, or the meds (or all three), he was of no use to anyone in his condition. "You need to lie down for a while, okay? You can sleep on the plan."

Dov made no move to join her when she stood. "I can't…"

"You can and you  _will_  – I'm taking over security detail." Holding a hand out for the gun she deadpanned, "I just hope your mom can keep from falling in love with me…" Considering the woman's behavior in the kitchen Gail wasn't liking her odds.

It was either an innocent allusion to  _The Bodyguard_  or a sly jab about how he  _hadn't,_ and since he'd learned long ago that nothing out of her mouth was ever  _innocent_ … "You've done enough." He got to his feet to show her out.

It took Gail a second to figure out what had caused the renewed chill in the air. Unable to take it back (and knowing he wouldn't believe he'd  _misunderstood_ ) she stepped into his path. "Your mother isn't here which means I'm back to being the most stubborn one in the room." She would have ordered him like she had that night ( _Get in the bed, Dov; Give me the gun)_ but couldn't bear to see the same shamed puppy look he'd sported then. If there was anything she'd already done enough of it was  _damage…_  "Come on."

Dov shifted his attention from her concerned face to the hand she'd placed on his chest and back again. He  _was_  tired, and if he was going to entrust his mom to anyone… Wordlessly, he pulled the gun from his waistband.

"Good…" Breathing an inward sigh of relief she tucked it into her own pants, then went to the head of the bed and pulled back the covers. "Now get in." Okay, so maybe she didn't  _quite_ have her control issues under control…

"You know I'm not five, right?" He did it anyway, sheer exhaustion taking over.

"Your Batman sheets beg to differ, Romeo," she teased, reaching for the container on his nightstand to keep from reaching for  _him_. "Do you need a pill?"

He thought about it for a second before gesturing in the negative. When she left his side to close the curtains he followed her with his hooded gaze. "I don't get you, you know? I like to think I do but most of the time you just confuse the hell out of me."

 _Join the club…_  "Being enigmatic is just one of my many natural talents…" Leaning in the doorjamb she studied him in the faint light from the hall; fondly continued, "Just like being an idiot is one of  _yours_."

"I heard that," Dov mumbled through the drowsy haze.

Gail walked back to the bed and ran her fingers through his too-long hair; denied the undeniable urge to climb in with him. " _I didn't think it was a secret…_ "

His retort was a soft snore.


	28. Chapter 28

The atmosphere in the car had become too thick – his curiosity too  _great_  – for Dov to hold his tongue any longer. Loosening his belt he angled his body toward the blonde in the driver's seat. "Why are you doing this?"

"I enjoy cleaning up other people's messes," Gail offered without missing a beat. "It reminds me how much better I am than them."

While the glib response was completely predictable, he'd hoped she would shock him with something a tad more…  _profound_. "Gee –  _thanks_."

Clearly the six-hour 'nap' had done nothing to revive his sense of humor… Keeping her eyes on the road she dismissed, "You know why I'm here, Dov." It was the  _only_ reason she would subject herself to a day of being questioned, doted on, and nattered  _at_  by a woman so nauseatingly friendly (depressingly lonely?) that the subject of  _why_ she was there hadn't even been broached.

Even though she couldn't really see it Dov gave his head a frustrated shake. "No, I really  _don't_  know, because for the last week you've wanted nothing to do with me and now suddenly it's Peck to the rescue." The bitterness in his tone betrayed the confusion he felt.

Gail took a steadying breath. "Look – just because I'm pissed off doesn't mean I don't care, okay?" Uncomfortable with the (extorted) admission, she tacked on a mitigating, "It just means if anyone's going to make you suffer it's gonna be  _me_."

Of course it had to be diluted by a double negative, like she would spontaneously combust if the words 'I care' (much less 'I care about  _you'_ ) crossed her lips… "Why can't you just say it?"

Her grip tightened on the steering wheel as self-loathing gripped  _her_  for not quashing the conversation sooner. "You know how many times I said it to Chris?" She shot him a pointed glance. " _Twice_ ; the night we got back together and the day after we broke up." Everything else had been 'ditto' or 'you, too.' And even then it had always felt forced if not false.

Dov was too surprised that she'd volunteered the information (even more relieved by what it  _implied_ ) to care that it was the product of an apparent misunderstanding.

"And just for the record?" she continued defensively, "You never said it either."

And the surprises just kept on coming… "Are you  _serious_?" He may not have said those exact three words but it wasn't like his love for her was some big national secret. Much as she'd probably prefer it to be…

Gail shrugged, unaffected by his indignation. "I'm just pointing out that not saying it doesn't make it not true." Just like  _saying_  it didn't automatically make it so.

It amazed him she thought it was that easy. "But you  _know_  how I feel because I've shown it." In excruciatingly embarrassing and morally dubious ways, besides. " _You_ …"

"Are  _you_ serious?" she interjected before he could say something that would get him hit. "I gave up my boyfriend because I was coming between the two of you, I made myself look like a pining fool to reassure your girlfriend you  _weren't_  one, and I almost got my ass  _disowned_  getting you your job back…" She spared him three raised fingers and a pertly-raised eyebrow. "I don't know if you've noticed but self-sacrifice isn't exactly my thing."

"What are you talking about?" The first two Dov was aware of (had to admit weren't insignificant, especially for her) but the last was news to him; he'd been too preoccupied with the Jeremy thing to even think to ask Frank  _why_ the transfer had been scrapped…

Tapping her thigh impatiently ( _awkwardly_ ), Gail willed the traffic light to turn green. "I kinda went off on my mother about your transfer," she handwaved, then redirected focus with a wry, "One of these days you're going to have to tell me what you said to her, by the way."

"You did?" He couldn't say he wasn't proud of her ( _wouldn't_ because she'd just think he was being patronizing), but he sorta wished she'd stood up to Elaine for  _herself_  instead. Still: "I'm sorry I missed it."

Gail wasn't… "Go figure: the first time I do and she didn't even deserve it." It took all (okay,  _most_ ) of the satisfaction out of the milestone.

Dov's brow furrowed. "It wasn't her?"

For the second time in fifteen minutes Gail mentally berated herself for saying too much. Shaking her head she warned, "She might try now, though – she thinks you're a bad influence." And mother dearest didn't even know the  _half_  of it…

When she failed to elaborate he prompted, "So who did then?" The only other suspect he had was Chris, but his (ex) best friend didn't have the power…

Her (multiple) attempt(s) at diversion unsuccessful, Gail had no choice but to hedge, as much to protect her father as to save herself the embarrassment of having to explain  _why_ he'd done it. "Does it matter? It's over."

It  _did_ matter, and Dov would have pressed the issue had she not pulled her car into a spot behind Prohibition.

"Give me the gun," she directed as she killed the engine.

"What?" After dinner he'd taken it back from her and put it in a drawer as she watched, then retrieved it while she was in the bathroom. Unless she had a camera in the kitchen she couldn't  _possibly_ …

"The  _gun_ , Dov. If we get caught with it my parents can cover for me; say I was on assignment." They'd be hard-pressed to justify her assignment taking her outside the 15's jurisdiction but she'd worry about getting across that bridge if they came to it.

And apparently she  _hadn't_  bought his ultra-smooth performance… Didn't mean he was going to give up the jig, though; the only way he could foresee getting caught was if something went horribly awry, and if that was the case he didn't want her implicated any more than she had to be. "I don't have it; I left it at the house for my mom."

The brief pause and unlikely claim set Gail's bullshit detector off. "Yeah, right – like your mother would hurt a fly, never mind a person."  _Rash of robberies in the neighborhood or not…_

Dov adjusted his course; put on his best 'concerned' face. "Even if she wouldn't, I feel better knowing she has it if Jeremy comes knocking."

Gail had a hard time buying he would go into this without a weapon but the idiot  _had_  done it once before… "Maybe I should call and make sure she knows  _how_  to use it," she tested, holding out a hand. "You know, just in case  _Jeremy_   _comes knocking_ …"

Taking the phone from his pocket Dov found the contact and blithely offered it up. "I've shown her before but be my guest." He sent up a brief prayer that this game of chicken would have the same result as the last one, i.e.  _him_  winning.

When her probing stare didn't produce a flinch (or any other sign he was lying) Gail bypassed the cell to reach across him and into the glove box.

Relief at not being called on his bluff was replaced by panic. "What are you doing?"

She extracted her taser from a pile of papers and showed it to him. "If you think I'm going in there unarmed you probably need more sleep."

Dov hadn't expected this turn of events (clearly he  _did_ need more sleep) and suddenly the whole thing seemed like a very bad, no good,  _horrible_  idea… "I'm gonna go in alone."

"Like hell, Dov."

 _"You_  haven't slept since yesterday," he tried, unable to come up with a more convincing reason for the change in plans, "And your shift starts in an hour."

Gail rolled her eyes at him. " _Our_  shift. And I'm fine." She'd actually been sleeping better since the showdown at Peck Palace, and it wasn't like it would be the first time she'd worked two shifts without.

"Gail…"

"Dov, I'm not letting you go in there without me." She didn't want to say she didn't trust his judgment  _but_ …

"Fine." He only gave in because he doubted Jeremy would be there at seven on a Tuesday, anyway; it wasn't  _at all_ because he knew he was fighting a losing battle… "But you're only here for backup, okay? You let me do all the talking."

Gail tucked the weapon into her coat pocket. "I make no promises."

" _Gail_ …"

"I'll stay out of it so long as you're not screwing it up and that's all you're getting." It was a compromise, of sorts…

Dov sighed; slumped back into his seat. "I bet you and my mom got along  _famously_."

 _Famously?_  She'd been too busy dodging questions – about her and Chris, about Dov and Chris, about Dov's strange moods of late – to do any 'getting along,'  _famously_ or otherwise. "If this doesn't work you need to tell her the truth, Dov; she's in more danger not knowing." And he  _would_ run out of sick days eventually…

As much as he dreaded the prospect he also knew she was  _right_. "It this doesn't work, I will." Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, though…

"Good." She allowed him to hold her gaze – silent acknowledgment of everything that had brought them to that point and what might lie ahead – until the mounting tension had her biting the inside of her lip. "Ready?"

Dov nodded, then put his hand on her arm when she moved to get out. "Gail…"

The weight of what he (presumably) wanted to say was ten times more immobilizing than his grip… Her back still to him, eyes tightly closed, she rejected it with a shake of her head. "They're just words, Dov."

He wanted to ask why they were so hard for her to say then ( _or hear),_  but she'd already closed the car door behind her.


	29. Chapter 29

Dov opened the door to Prohibition and motioned Gail to enter first, partly because his mother had raised him right but  _mostly_  because it gave him a chance to reposition his gun without being noticed. When he joined her inside moments later, he was once again torn to see Jeremy at the back of the bar. "That's him," he directed with a jut of his chin.

Gail immediately began to move in on the identified target – a greasy-looking dude with only a beer for company – but was stopped (for a  _second_  time) by an unwelcome grip on her arm. "What  _now_?"

Annoyed by her annoyance, he hissed, " _Backup_ , remember?" They were  _her_  terms – the least she could do was  _stick_ to them…

 _Ugh._ She would have preferred another awkward heart-to-heart to the reminder she was (voluntarily) walking into a hostile situation with her hands tied… "By all means," she conceded derisively, waving him ahead. "After you, Custer."

Dov rolled his eyes at the implication but offered no rebuttal; just considered himself lucky she was giving in without ( _much of_ ) a fight… Approaching the table, he suppressed a wince when the dealer's angry gaze fell upon him.

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises, Kibbles…" Jeremy set down his glass with a resounding thud. "Come back to see what else you can take me for?" Who the hell strolled up to the guy they'd just robbed like it was a casual meeting in the park?

God, Dov hoped that was a note of regret he detected behind the outrage… "Can we talk?"

Jeremy shook his head, dumbfounded. "I don't know if you're crazy brave or crazy stupid, kid." That he'd even  _dare_  show his face again…

Dov glanced behind him – fully expecting the blonde to volunteer her own smart-assed opinion on the matter – only to find empty space. A quick ( _confused_ ) scan of the room located her perched on a stool at the bar proper, looking like any other patron, and he figured she was either saving the element of surprise for if they needed it (he sent up a quick prayer that they  _wouldn't_ ) or staging a silent protest at being sidelined. Knowing her it could easily have been either (or  _both_ )…

Feeling his eyes on her Gail surreptitiously patted her right pocket – showing where their mark had instinctively reached before he'd caught himself – as she accepted a pint from the bartender with her other hand.

Was it possible to love someone and hate them in equal measure? Dov hadn't thought so before he'd met her… Careful to stay outside the reach of a melee weapon (not much he could do if it was a  _gun_ ), he claimed the chair across from his old friend/ new enemy.

"We should go somewhere a little quieter," Jeremy suggested, downing the rest of his beer and standing.

A little quieter or with less  _witnesses_? "I think we're good here."

Dropping back onto his bench Jeremy shrugged, "So talk."

"Everything I told you was true," Dov began, fingers knotted nervously in front of him. "I just didn't tell you  _everything_."

"What are you talking about?" Whatever he'd left out, Jeremy doubted it would excuse making off with a couple Gs…

Dov swallowed hard and hoped to hell Gail was right… "The warehouse I work at? It's 15 Division. I'm a cop."

Jeremy shook his head slowly; scoffed, "You're gonna come in here and lie to get yourself out of trouble?" And here he'd thought the kid had come to beg  _forgiveness_...

"It's not a lie." Flashing his badge (well,  _Gail's_  badge – his was still at the barn along with half of his uniform), he explained, "It was an exercise…"

Gail couldn't hear what they were saying over the din, but judging by the guy's dour expression things weren't going very well. When his hand twitched towards his pocket again she only  _just_  managed to keep from going over.

"You fucking  _played_  me, man." Jeremy wasn't entirely sure he bought the story but the sheer  _gall_  of the kid left him seeing red. "I was just trying to help you and you played me for a fucking  _fool._ "

Dov wished he could say he hadn't  _wanted_  to (if only to appease the guy) but he'd actually gone there with the express purpose of  _doing so_ … "I needed to win, Jer. I don't expect you to understand but it wasn't personal."

Jeremy slammed his fist onto the tabletop. "Like  _hell_  it wasn't personal! You used Adam to soften me up and then you fucking  _stole_ from me!" It didn't  _get_  any more personal than that…

'Tell it to the police' was on the tip of Dov's tongue but he refrained from voicing it. Where Jeremy didn't have a legal leg to stand on, he didn't have a  _moral_ one; he  _had_  used his brother's memory – without a thought to the consequences – to win a competition that didn't really  _mean_  anything… "I didn't…"

"Can I buy you boys a drink?"

Dov bit back a groan. Despite the sugary sweet timbre he would recognize that voice  _anywhere_ …

Jeremy spared the intruding blonde but a glance. "We're kinda busy here, sweetheart."

"Oh, I can see that…" Propping herself on the back of Dov's chair Gail purred, "I was kinda hoping I could get in on the action."

Dov quirked an eyebrow up at her – wordlessly questioning her approach – but received only a sassy wink in return.

Any other time Jeremy might have been interested in the easy pickings, but at the moment the girl's refusal to take a hint only added fuel to the flames… "What part of 'no' don't you understand, lady?"

Gail's mouth twitched into a feral grin. "See, I'm not really the 'take no for an answer' kind of girl…"

_Ain't that the truth…_

"Yeah?" Jeremy growled, the sultry delivery doing nothing to improve his mood, "Well, if I have to say it again you're gonna be sorry..."

Dov had no idea what her plan was (or why she persisted when she was so obviously making things  _worse_ ) but once she got going…

" _Ooh_ …" Leaning across the table Gail murmured a husky, "Is that a threat or a promise?" She'd been aiming to distract him with some good old-fashioned flirting but if  _that_  was the turn events were going to take, then she couldn't really say she was disappointed…

Her defiance momentarily throwing him off his game, Jeremy struggled to give her his most intimidating glare. "Trust me, sweetheart – you don't want to find out."

 _Big man…_ "Really?" Gail's tone lost its playfulness; turned to ice. "'Cause I'm willing to bet I can do more damage to you unarmed than  _you_  can with that woefully inadequate switchblade you seem to think is a proper weapon…"

At that Dov  _did_  groan. Loudly.

 _Huh_? Jeremy blinked in confusion, then realized he wasn't just dealing with some drunk floozy looking for a three-way.

She'd taken a guess – based on his movements and the shape and weight of the bulge – but his shock told Gail she'd been dead on. Moving around Dov she nonchalantly took the chair beside him. "Were you done?" Without giving him an opportunity to answer she decided, "Yeah – you were done," and shifted her attention back to the dealer. "So here's how I see it: As of now no one but me and him know who you are. No one gives a damn about some low-level runner…"

"Who the hell  _is_  this chick?" Jeremy wondered aloud.

Dov sighed, waving a hand between them. "Jeremy, Gail. Gail, Jeremy." Confiscating her glass he downed half of it in one go. It was the  _least_  she owed him…

"Jeremy," Gail continued conversationally, "That could all change with one phone call. One call and you become public enemy number one. We put a tail on you and a tap on your cell and we make your life a living hell. We track down your suppliers and your customers and we make  _their_ lives a living hell and make sure they know  _why_. Are you following so far?"

Jeremy gaped at Dov. "Is she for real?" He felt like he was guest starring in a bad cop procedural. Or on one of those candid camera shows…

Taking another swig of beer Dov nodded gravely. So much for letting him handle it;  _of course_ she couldn't be content sitting idle in the background…

Gail nodded too, in case there was any doubt. "So here's what I propose, Jeremy: you forget you saw Dov Saturday night and I'll forget I know who you are, what you do, and where your 'office' is. Pretty fair, I think…" Giving a disapproving click of her tongue she added, "Though I gotta say part of me is hoping you say no – the thought of leaving you out here to peddle your crap to innocent kids makes me sick."

"I don't sell to kids," Jeremy defended automatically. "Haven't in a long time."

 _A dealer with standards…_ "You'll have to forgive me for skipping the high five," Gail deadpanned, not nearly as impressed as she supposed she was meant to be. "So do we have a deal?"

What had the kid said? 'Tough as nails and a tongue like acid'? Jeremy thought he could safely add 'cocky' and 'overconfident' to the list as well… "How do you know I won't go back on it when I'm ready to go after him?"

Gail shrugged, outwardly unworried. "I think if you were hardcore you'd be packing more heat than a knife. And I think you got duped because you're sentimental, not because you're an idiot." Translation:  _Don't be an idiot_. "I could be wrong, though; there's a first time for everything…"

Yup,  _definitely_  cocky _…_ Jeremy looked from her to Dov and back again. "I want to talk to Kibbles alone."

 _Kibbles?_  Gail resisted the urge to laugh (it wouldn't do to undermine Dov in the middle of a standoff) but they would absolutely be addressing the unfortunate nickname (and all the inherent dog jokes)  _later_ … "That's cool; I've said my piece." Standing, she reclaimed her glass and raised it in mock-salute. "Boys."

Jeremy watched her self-assured stroll to the bar. "I think I get it, man."

Dov's brow furrowed. "Get what?"

"Why you're hung up on her…" Tilting his empty glass at the kid Jeremy admitted, "She's kinda badass. And a lot hot." She wasn't exactly  _his_  type – mostly because he would never be  _her_ type – but he could totally see the appeal.

Suspecting a denial would be useless (apparently he'd described her a little  _too_ well), Dov settled for a resigned, "She's a lot more than that, Jer." Most of which made him want to tear his own hair out…

Jeremy nodded, recalling their conversation. "Well, if you sent her running it wasn't too far."

The realization that he now knew her name ( _and_  where she worked) hit Dov like a ton of bricks. "Your beef's with me, Jeremy. Leave her out of it."

"Seems to me she put  _herself_  in it, Kibbles." And seemed to  _enjoy_  it, besides.

Dov was less than reassured… "I'm serious," he warned. "Her parents run the 15 and her godfather is the Chief of Police; unless you want to take on the entire force you'll leave her alone."

And that would certainly go a long way to explaining her 'special' personality… But even if the kid  _was_  lying – had just been smart enough to set it up the last time – it didn't change anything: "I'm not planning on going after her, kid. Or you."

"You're not?" Dov wasn't ready to do a victory dance just yet.

Jeremy shook his head. "Wasn't even  _before_  your little good cop/ bad cop routine. I couldn't have said that Saturday, though." The kid was lucky he hadn't found him while the pain of betrayal was still fresh… "Once I calmed down I figured it was some delayed revenge thing and I maybe deserved it."

"It had nothing to do with you, Jer." Not  _really_ … "I just needed to win."

"You're not helping your case any, kid." Jeremy may not have been pissed enough to retaliate but he was still  _pissed_ , and the kid needed to shut up and take the out he was being given… "Anyway, I'm just glad you're doing something with your life. I'll consider it an investment in your future. For Adam."

They sat quietly for a minute, each presumably remembering the elder Epstein, until Dov broke the silence with an uneasy admission: "I thought you were gonna go after my mom."

Jeremy's face dropped instantly, insulted. "I would  _never_  touch your mom, Kibbles; that woman took better care of me than mine did most days…" He'd actually spent most of his youth pretending she  _was_ his mom. It wasn't until he was older and wiser that he'd realized his own hadn't  _wanted_  to be the way she was.

Dov hadn't known; clearly Adam hadn't been the only one hiding things… "I'm sorry, man."

Just wanting to put the whole thing behind them, and leave the past in the past where it belonged, Jeremy waved the apology away. "Tell your old lady to bring a round over here. On you."

As tempted as Dov was, just to see the expression on her face… "We can't – we're already going to be late for work." Standing up he pulled a twenty from his wallet and slid it across the table. "For what it's worth I really do wish it had happened differently."  _All of it_ …

Jeremy nodded in tacit agreement, then grabbed the kid's arm before he could retreat. "Tell her about the pills, Kibbles."

Dov felt his chest get heavy with dread once again. "Jer, I'm not…"

"You know what they say about not kidding a kidder?" Holding the younger man's gaze Jeremy somberly warned, "Even if you  _do_ need them, you don't want to start down that road."

 _Adam's road…_ And as much as Dov would like to avoid it… "I'll figure it out on my own; she already thinks I'm weak."

"But she's still here," Jeremy pointed out. "From what you told me that means something."

Oh, it meant something alright, just not  _the_  something any sane person would  _think_  it did… Forcing a smile Dov placated, "Maybe you're right. Take care of yourself, man."

Gail hopped off her stool and, without looking at the dealer, followed Dov out of the bar. "So we're good?"

"Yeah," he confirmed tersely, zipping up his coat against the cold. "We're good."

"Cool." Getting in the car she allowed herself a small sigh of relief before leaning over to unlock his door. Once he was in she started the engine and pulled onto the street. "So if anyone saw us we were meeting a potential C.I. that didn't pan out." Being seen socializing with a drug dealer wouldn't do  _either_  of their careers any favors…

Dov gritted his teeth as he buckled his belt. "Yeah. Thanks for the help."

"You're welcome," she responded automatically, mentally mapping her route to the station.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he shifted his attention from the passing scenery to her profile. "That was  _sarcasm_ , Gail." Was she even  _listening_  to him?

"Uh…" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, confused. "Did I miss something?"

Dov let out a pained scoff. "How  _could_  you? You were front and center, just like always."

Gail's first instinct was to ask if he was fucking with her ('cause,  _really_?), but the tight set to his jaw said he was deadly serious.  _No good deed, indeed…_


	30. Chapter 30

Gail hopped off her stool and, without looking at the dealer, followed Dov out of the bar. "So we're good?"

"Yeah," he confirmed tersely, zipping up his coat against the cold. "We're good."

"Cool." Getting in the car she allowed herself a small sigh of relief before leaning over to unlock his door. Once he was in she started the engine and pulled onto the street. "So if anyone saw us we were meeting a potential C.I. that didn't pan out." Being seen socializing with a drug dealer wouldn't do  _either_  of their careers any favors…

Dov gritted his teeth as he buckled his belt. "Yeah. Thanks for the help."

"You're welcome," she responded automatically, mentally mapping her route to the station.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he shifted his attention from the passing scenery to her profile. "That was  _sarcasm_ , Gail." Was she even  _listening_  to him?

"Uh…" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, confused. "Did I miss something?"

Dov let out a pained scoff. "How  _could_  you? You were front and center, just like always…"

Gail's first instinct was to ask if he was fucking with her ('cause,  _really_?), but the tight set to his jaw said he was deadly serious.  _No good deed, indeed…_

Annoyed by her failure (or  _refusal_ ) to grasp how he could  _possibly_ be upset, he spelled it out for her with a pointed, "What happened to letting  _me_  handle it?"

It was her turn to scoff, as much because he wasn't letting it go as for the absolute  _ridiculousness_  of his objection. "You weren't doing a very good job; you were supposed to have  _him_ on the defensive, remember?" What happened to  _that_?

The blatant scorn did nothing to improve Dov's mood. "That was  _your_ plan, Gail;  _I_  decided to use a little thing called tact. Not sure if you've heard of it?" Just because it wasn't  _her_ way didn't mean it was the  _wrong_ way.

Was  _that_  what that sad display was?  _Tact_? "Your body language screamed whipped puppy…" Taking advantage of the red light, she spared him a raised eyebrow and a mocking, "Nice nickname, by the way," then turned back to the road. "And  _he_  looked like he was bordering on Hulk: Smash…  _Score one for tact._ " She could do sarcasm, too.

Dov's fingers closed around the bottle of pills in his pocket before he caught himself, the dealer's warning ringing in his ears. "He wasn't going to hurt me," he bit off, equal parts indignation at her version of events and fear that Jeremy had been right. "He was just blowing off steam."

And she was supposed to know that  _how_? "The guy was hostile, Dov – what did you want me to do? Sit back and wait until he'd taken his pound of flesh?" She wouldn't apologize for putting his safety above his wounded ego.

What he  _wanted_ was for her to treat him like the trained cop he was, not some reckless child in need of constant supervision… "I had it under control, Gail; if I'd needed your help I would've  _asked_  for it."

Gail's eyes attempted to roll right out of their sockets. " _Really_? Like you  _asked_  for help when you realized you were in trouble?" They both knew he'd only accepted her help now because she'd  _forced_  it on him…

"That was different," Dov explained with a shake of his head. "You weren't involved then." Hadn't yet involved  _herself_  then… "I was trying to fix it on my own."

And yet here they were… "I was  _with you_ , Dov. During your big epiphany in the locker room? How hard would it have been to just tell me what was going on?" At the very least he could have shared the burden and saved himself a couple of sleepless nights…

In the locker room he'd been in shock. Panicked. Horrified and  _ashamed_. It would have been  _impossibly_ hard to tell her what was going on, because he would've had to tell her what he'd  _done_ … "Would you have told  _me_  if it were the other way around?"

"No," she answered without hesitation, "because it never would've  _been_ 'the other way around.'" Not a chance in  _hell_  she would've put herself in that position. He  _knew_  that, and, judging by the attitude she was getting,  _resented_  her for it… "Look, I get that you feel like an idiot, okay? But you don't get to take it out on me because  _you_ screwed up."

All Dov heard was that a) she was perfect, and b) he  _should_ feel like an idiot… "You just don't get it, do you?" He ran a violent hand through his hair. "I  _wasn't_  a screw-up before I met you. I wasn't  _pathetic_  or  _insecure_  or a  _shitty best friend_." Or maybe hooked on Oxy.

Despite the implied accusation his tone was sheer self-loathing, and it took Gail by surprise. Glancing at him in concern, she wondered, "Dov, where is this coming from?" She'd meant for him to take the win and move on, not take it out on  _himself_.

"And you know what?" he continued as though she hadn't spoken, afraid to let her derail his train of thought the way she'd derailed his life. "I think you  _like_ it. You  _like_  me being weak because it  _does_ make you feel good about yourself."

Gail's brow furrowed. "Dov, that's not true." It was the  _opposite_ of true.

 _No?_  From where he was standing – in  _exile_ – there was nothing  _more_ true. "I stood up to you and I got cut off," he recapped bitterly, the wound still achingly fresh. "But the  _second_ I fucked up you were there to pick up the pieces."

 _Say what now?_  Her temper rose to meet his, her hands clenched around the steering wheel. "I'm not  _psychic_ , Dov; I didn't  _know_  you'd fucked up when I came to your mother's house this morning, remember?" She'd practically had to  _beat_  the info out of him.

Dov snorted heartily. "No – you thought I was sulking about the transfer and you came to berate me for  _that_." Finding out he'd fucked up was just a happy bonus…

Was he really that obtuse? "I came to  _check on you_ , you idiot!" It was more exasperation than anger; hurt that her motives were being questioned, and sinking suspicion that she'd given him every reason to  _do so_.

Even if he  _dared_  believe her… "You were only worried because I went M.I.A.." Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat at the thought, he quietly predicted, "And now that you've swooped in to save the day, I go right back to being ignored."

Gail's anger immediately deflated, realizing that  _that_ was what was really bothering him. It wasn't about what had happened or  _why_ , but what would happen  _next._ She really wished it  _wasn't_ , because he wasn't wrong and she wouldn't pretend he  _was_ … Like she'd told her dad, nothing had changed.

The lengthening silence was deafening, her lack of denial speaking louder than words ever could… Heaving a sigh, Dov went back to staring out the window. "I'm tired, Gail. I'm tired of having to do stupid shit just to get your attention, and I'm tired of trying to figure out if any of the things  _you_ do mean anything."

He  _sounded_  tired. And disheartened and  _resigned_ … "Dov, if this is some ploy to get me to give in…"

"It's not a ploy," he interrupted before she could threaten him bodily harm, or worse: warn him it wouldn't work. "I'm done. For real this time."

Gail didn't know what he meant by 'this time,' but told herself that it didn't really matter. Told herself that it was for the best – that it was what she  _wanted_  – as she muttered an even, "Okay."

 _Okay?_  He swiveled back to her in disgust. "I tell you that loving you is destroying me and all you can say is ' _okay'_?"

Well, he hadn't quite put it  _that_ way… Chest tight, mouth suddenly dry, she reminded him, "I didn't  _ask_  you to, Dov. And God knows if I knew how to make you  _stop_ I'd have done it a long time ago." She tried to fix his messes – with Chris and Sue and Jeremy – because she knew that if it weren't for her he wouldn't have been  _in_ them.

Did she even give a shit about how  _callous_ she was coming off? "Jeremy was right about one thing: you're  _not_  worth it." Looking like an idiot. Possibly getting his mom hurt. All the  _pain_.

Gail blinked back the impending tears. "Told you that myself – good to know a dealer's word means more than mine…" And yet it was somehow a million times worse to think he  _believed_  it.

"At least he's  _honest_ , Gail." Dov knew it was unfair even before he'd said it, but the ice queen routine wasn't leaving him feeling very charitable.

"I never lied to you, Dov." Running a shaky hand through her hair, she clarified, "I never told you we could be together."

She'd never told him why they  _couldn't_ be, either… "But there is no halfway with you, Gail; not with  _me_. You have no problem being friends with Chris…"

"Chris is different," she defended automatically, then regretted it the instant Dov stiffened beside her.

He didn't know if he'd been expecting (hoping) for her to deny it, but her casual confirmation was like a blade in his gut. " _Why_?"

Because Chris was innocent and Chris was easy and Chris was  _safe_. Chris took what she was capable of giving and Chris was  _happy_ with it. Dov…

The longer she went without giving him an answer, the less Dov thought he'd like it when it came… "Fine. You want to write me off, Gail?" He let his shoulders drop in surrender. "Then do it. But  _for real_. Stop bouncing in and out of my life whenever the hell the urge strikes you. I just can't take the yo-yoing anymore."

Dov? Dov always  _pushed_. Pushed her buttons and pushed her limits. Tested her resistance and threatened her resolve. He wanted more of her than she'd ever been comfortable sharing, and even though he said he'd settle for friendship, she knew he could never truly be happy with anything less than  _everything_. He  _deserved_ everything, and it made her feel the worst kind of broken to not be able to  _give it to him_ … Pulling off the road, she slammed her foot down on the brake and motioned across him to his door. "Good talk. Now get out." Maybe she  _did_ like it when he was weak, because it was like karmic justice for how weak he made  _her…_

"Seriously?" Dov glared at her in the streetlight filtering through the windshield. "We're like a block away from the station…"

"Then it's a short walk," she offered icily, willing her eyes not to betray the turmoil behind them. "This is what you want, right? Last bounce, Dov.  _Out_."

This  _wasn't_  what he wanted; not at all. But of the few options she was giving him, this was the only one where he had any hope of maintaining his sanity… Opening the door, he got out of the car only to lean back in. "You know what, Gail?  _Fuck you_." He couldn't believe she was being so petty and vindictive; that she had the nerve to  _punish_   _him_  for not wanting to be at the mercy of her whims anymore.

Gail pasted a smile on her face; prayed he didn't notice it was watery. "Keep it clean like the radio edit, Dov:  _Forget_  me."

Before Dov could think of a retort he was forced to jump back as she punched the gas, his door closing with the momentum of her pulling a U-turn in the middle of the street. She narrowly missed an SUV parked on the other side, then sped away in the opposite direction of the 15. He told himself he didn't  _care_  where she was going – he was going to forget her, just like she'd said…


	31. Chapter 31

"I am absolutely,  _unequibacly_  fucked up," Gail told the man across from her. "Did you know that?"

While the mangling of 'unequivocally' made it pretty clear that 'sober' was fast fading in her rearview, she obviously wasn't referring to the kind of 'fucked up' that could be cured with a good night's sleep and a strong cup of joe. "Well, you're here, with me, getting wasted before ten on a Tuesday…" Kinda gave it away…

Gail's lips fell into a pronounced pout. "Et tu, Brute?" She moved to pour herself another drink out of spite; deepened her pout when she realized the bottle was empty. "The bottle's empty…" And the betrayals just kept coming.

She seemed genuinely perplexed by that simple fact, making Liam chuckle as he removed the offensive item from her grasp. "That's because you  _emptied_ it into your mouth…" Thankfully it hadn't started out full.

 _Nuh-uh…_  "It must have sprung a leak," she argued, making the 'gimme' motion. "I demand a new one."

He playfully batted her hand away. "If I let you get alcohol poisoning your brother is going to kill me."

Gail scoffed at the notion that Steve would even  _give a damn._  "I'm a big girl, Liam – I make my own choices." And it was in his best interests to  _not_  make her go get it herself, what with her current lack of balance and the bar's overabundance of breakable things…

It was unnerving, how easily her tone had lost its childlike quality and taken on a heavy hint of warning. "Can I convince you to have something with it, at least? Cran? O.J.?"

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

Take that as a 'no'… "Speaking of choices, aren't you supposed to be working tonight?" As far as Liam knew her little crew was on Third Watch for a few more days; he hadn't planned on seeing any of them until at least Thursday.

Accepting the fruit of her intimidation, she gave him a conspiratorial wink in exchange. "I won't tell if you won't."

"Neither of us will  _have_  to," he reasoned, watching her down the straight Vodka with nary a wince. "You  _chose_  the wrong place to play hooky." Any number of her co-workers would just love to turn her in, either for the brownie points or to settle some personal slight.

After the day she'd had, Gail was beyond caring.  _Besides_ : "I came here for you."

Liam paused in wiping down the bar top to blink at her. "Not that I'm not flattered, but why?"

Shrugging, she dropped her voice to a somber whisper. "Because you don't judge. I could tell you I killed a guy today and you'd just smile all sad-like and tell me 'Tomorrow's a new day, Peck.'"

" _Did_  you kill a guy today, Peck?" Was that why she was there?

Gail swallowed hard. "Not a guy, no." A chance at real happiness?  _Maybe_. "It's bullshit, you know? 'Tomorrow'  _wasn't_ a new day. It  _wasn't_  better in the morning, or any morning after that. It just got  _worse_ , actually."

Liam assumed she wasn't talking about the hypothetical morning after this hypothetical conversation between them had (not) taken place, but he had no clue what she  _was_ talking about… "Sorry, kiddo; you lost me."

Good – then at least she wasn't alone… "To being lost," she toasted, raising her glass in mock salute. "May you not trip over your own feet and fall flat on your face."

"That's a lot of 'F's." In her condition, he was amazed she'd managed to get them all out without tripping over her own _tongue_ …

She had some more for him: "Failure. Fake. Frigid. Friendless." She trailed off when she felt hot tears begin to sting her eyes.  _Fuck_.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he offered casually, more concerned than he dared let on.

Gail cringed at the prospect. "I'd rather you turn up the music so I don't have to  _think_ about it."

Having other patrons to consider – and suspecting there was no decibel loud enough to do the job,  _anyway_  – he only pretended to turn the knob. As expected, she didn't even seem to notice.

"What's wrong with me, Liam?" Regretting the question as soon as it left her lips, she quickly put up a hand. "Never mind – you have to close in a few hours." She snorted at her own joke, even though she had a sinking feeling it was more truth than tale.

Clearly she  _did_ want to talk about it, if only subconsciously, or she wouldn't keep coming back to it… "What's going on, kid?"

Gail stared into her tumbler as though the answers were written at the bottom of it. "How do you people do it?"

 _You people?_ "You're going to have to be a little more specific than that. Guys? Bartenders?" He waited for her to look up at him, then graced her with an impish grin and an exaggerated brogue. "The devastatingly handsome Irish?"

She wouldn't consider him  _devastatingly_  handsome per se, but he could still have his uses… "What do you say you close up early and take me back to your place?"

"Uh…" Getting propositioned by customers was nothing new to Liam, but the randomness of her proposal took him completely by surprise. "Tempting as that is, I say it's probably a bad idea."

Mood she was in, bad ideas were the  _best_  ideas… "I won't make you cuddle afterwards," she promised, giving him her most seductive smile. "You'll be too tired to do much more than snore."

"I don't snore." And he actually  _liked_ cuddling, but she didn't need to know that.

Gail ignored his lack of enthusiasm; purred, "I'm skeptical by nature – you'll have to let me find out for myself."

Liam's eyebrow quirked in amusement. "I'm starting to think you didn't just come here for the freedom from judgment, kiddo."

 _Ugh._  "Can you not call me 'kiddo' when I'm trying to hit on you?" It was creepy and weird and more than a little insulting. "You're only what? Ten years older?"

" _Four_. Thanks, though," he teased, "You're doing an awesome job winning me over."

Gail wasn't used to being openly laughed at. Or worse: rejected. "What the hell, Liam? Do I have bad breath or something?" She huffed into her cupped hand to check.

"You've got something, my dear…" Leaning across the bar, he tapped her affectionately on the nose. "But it isn't bad breath."

She tilted her head quizzically, then shook it in denial. "I've been tested…"

"I was talking about a mad case of 'rebound,'" Liam clarified with a chuckle.

" _Rebound?_ "Understanding dawned, and she would almost rather he thought she had an STD. "Nope. Never had that one."

"Gail…"

"Why would you assume it's about a guy, anyway?"

"Because I've never seen you so much as flinch at anything else." His statement was perfectly punctuated by the sound of her just-emptied tumbler hitting the wooden bar.

Gail gave him a skeptical look as she refilled the glass.

" _And_  because I've heard the rumors." Which were fully supported by what he'd seen the  _last_  time she'd been in there.

And again with the goddamned rumors… "There's one going around that I'm a lesbian – do you believe that one, too?"

Liam shook his head. "I'm pretty sure  _you_ started that one."

He wasn't wrong; if you couldn't beat 'em,  _confuse_  'em. "You're too quick for me. I think you need to catch up." She slid the bottle towards him.

Girl was as transparent as that poison she was consuming like she was lost in the desert and it was the first water she'd seen in days… "You're just trying to change the subject."

"I'm  _trying_ to get you drunk so you'll take me home." Her brow furrowed as she realized the implication of her words.

Okay, then she was just looking for a  _distraction_ … "You don't really want to sleep with me, Gail."

"Not true. I'd mount you faster than my mom mounts all those stupid trophies of hers." Absentmindedly dismissing a call, she finished, "Not the same definition, obviously."

Liam felt his cheeks flush. "You have quite the way with words, Peck."

Gail shrugged. "Depends on who you ask. Not everyone appreciates my creativity."

"Are we talking about someone in particular?" Were they finally getting somewhere with this conversation?

"Nope." Giving up, she retrieved the bottle for herself. "Just pointing out that I'm an acquired taste. Like sushi. Or Vegemite."

What on earth was he supposed to say to that? "Maybe, but the people who love them love them deeply?" He'd meant it to be more statement than question, but it was a reach and he hadn't quite been able to pull it off.

" _Seriously_?"

"Hey, it's not  _my_  fault your analogy is unwieldy…"

Gail waved it off; decided to work with it. "Well, maybe the sushi could stand to be less fishy, or the Vegemite less tart."

Liam was having a hard time following her train of thought. "So more people would love them?"

"God, no," she refuted with something akin to horror. "'Cause even the people who  _do_  love them can only take so much, you know? Can you imagine having to eat Vegemite for every meal?"

"I can't imagine having to eat it  _at all_ ," he grimaced, then – catching a flash of hurt cross her features – rushed to clarify, " _Vegemite_ , not you." This had to be the  _strangest_  exchange he'd ever been a part of.

The slight was already forgotten. "But you can't just change the recipe, you know? It's been that way for years."

"I don't think anyone wants to change the recipe, Gail." It was who she  _was_  that inspired such strong emotions.

"What if  _I_ do?" she posed with a sigh, staring into her glass. "But I don't know how. Not without changing everything and making it  _not_ Vegemite." Looking up at him she begged, "Can we just drop the Vegemite thing? It's making my head hurt."

"Sure, kiddo." It was making  _his_ head hurt and he hadn't downed half a bottle of Vodka.

Gail took a deep breath. "I'm not good with feelings. Having them. Showing them. Dealing with other people's."

"No?! Liam feigned shock.

She rewarded his snark with the presentation of her middle finger. "My mom always said showing people how you felt gave them power over you. That you should only ever let them see what you  _want_ them to see, whether it was real or not."

"That's a little jaded, no?" Even for a career cop. "We're human, Gail. Everyone has feelings."

"I am a  _Peck._ " First and foremost.  _Only._  "We're not supposed to be human, Liam. My mom didn't get where she is by being  _human_."

He chose his next words carefully, sensing it was a very touchy subject. "Gail, plenty of people held her position who didn't share her philosophy."

"Plenty of  _men_ ," she amended, voice dripping with disgust. "Men don't get accused of PMSing if they're having a bad day or being melodramatic if they're upset. Men aren't overreacting or power-tripping or whatever the hell other insult your kind throws around because you can't deal with your authority being challenged. And if we play the game – if we protect ourselves by not giving you anything to use against us – then we're frigid bitches." It was lose-lose.

Liam shook his head. "Not all guys think like that, Gail. Not anymore." He couldn't say there weren't  _any_ , but it was less than it used to be for sure.

"Look, I'm not here to argue the progress – or lack thereof – of the feminist movement." She didn't really care enough to, and it was taking all her concentration just to stay on topic. "Point is, I was young and it was just easier to  _not_ feel than hide it, you know? Put it in a box, label it 'Here there be dragons,' and move on. I may be older but the dragons are still there."

"Okay, say you're right." 'Cause he was pretty sure he would never win  _that_  argument; wasn't even sure he deserved to. "There's a difference between professionally and personally."

Gail sneered at how simple he made it sound. "It's not a switch, Liam. I can't just turn it on and off at will."

"Traci and Noelle do." He knew she didn't want to hear that but she had to know it was possible. "At work they can be just like you but they tone it down in their personal lives. With the people they trust  _not_  to use it against them."

"Then clearly I'm a manufacturer's defect," she bit off, hating having confirmation that she was just utterly broken. "Quick – send me back for a replacement!"

Liam caught her wildly gesticulating hand and brought it down to rest under his; quietly suggested, "Or maybe you just haven't  _let_  yourself trust anyone like that…"

Frustrated tears started down Gail's cheeks, and she swiped manically at them with her free hand. "It's not like I don't  _try_ , okay? But it's hard and it feels dirty. It never lasts long and it only makes things worse 'cause then they're like 'you can but you  _won't_.' I can stick my hand over an open flame, too – doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like hell."

It bothered him that she would associate trusting someone with actual physical pain… "Is that the part of the recipe you want to change?"

She blinked up at him. "Recipe? I don't actually  _have_  a lasagna recipe." She was pretty sure even Noelle knew that.

"Never mind." She looked as confused as he felt, and he had to remind himself that everything except this very minute was probably a blur to her. "I mean you want to be able to express yourself without worrying someone will use it against you."

After a moment's agonizing reflection she confessed, "I don't know. Sometimes I do, but then just the thought of putting it out there makes me literally sick." Like right now, though that could have just been a result of the alcohol… "You know those aboriginals or whatever that believed cameras stole a piece of their soul? Well, that's me."

"Afraid of losing your soul?" That  _was_  a little melodramatic, no?

"Losing  _control_ ," she corrected with a head bobble. "Information is power and power is control and control is protection. I can't  _not_ have control, Liam. I just can't."

"What are you protecting yourself  _from_?" He was genuinely curious if she even  _knew._

Gail sighed. "My whole life's been a lead-up to this. Being a cop. Do not pass 'go,' do not waste time on silly little things like having fun or making friends because they're just distractions. And it was  _okay_ because I had the box. The  _box_ is my friend. It takes all the feelings and crap I can't deal with and turns them into this little cube of toxic far back in my mind." She reclaimed her other hand and pantomimed violently crushing things between them. "Like a trash compactor that keeps me sane." More to herself than to him, she whispered, "The box needs to stay closed."

Wouldn't she need to open the box to keep putting stuff in it? He left that question unvoiced, though, afraid that in her state it would break her brain. "Look, I'm not going to lie and say loving someone doesn't come with disadvantages. It makes you do things you'd never imagined yourself doing, and sometimes it hurts more than any gunshot ever could."

She gave an emphatic nod of agreement. "Because it makes you  _weak_."

" _But_  it can also make you a better person," he shared. "Not because you need to be, but because you  _want_ to be. And it doesn't have to be just you against the world anymore; it can be you both,  _together_ , if you just let it. Gail, I think you'd be surprised how much  _stronger_  it can make you."

Gail studied him through narrowed eyes. "You read Cosmo in here when it's slow, don't you?"

Liam stifled a laugh, refusing to let her derail the train. "Do you think any woman who's in a relationship is weak?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Did he not know her  _at all_?

"Gail…"

Gail rolled her eyes, stopping abruptly when she realized the action made her stomach roil. "I've been in relationships before, Liam; I'm not a  _complete_ sociopath."

He saw an opening and took it, but wouldn't name the other piece of this equation until  _she_  did, lest it scare her silent. "So then what's so different about this one?"

"Besides the fact that it makes me just about the worst girlfriend on the planet?" Not that she'd been aiming for 'best,' but apparently even 'just good enough not to forever destroy your faith in women' had been too much to ask for.

"I think Lorena Bobbitt still holds the title for 'Worst Significant Other,'" he joked, trying to put her at ease. Wasn't even rewarded with a smile for his efforts… "But yeah,  _besides_  that."

Gail sighed again. " _He's_ different. I know that sounds like some cheesy Twilight fangurly reason, but it's true."

Liam gratefully accepted his order of cheese fries from the cook and slid it in front of the blonde. "Is it safe to assume we're not talking about Chris?"

"I think we both know we're not." Pointing a threatening finger, she reminded him, "No judgment."

"No judgment," he repeated sincerely. "So  _why_  is he different?"

So many reasons. But mostly? "He scares me."

Maybe this  _was_ a Twilight thing…

"I'm not afraid he's going to like,  _beat_  me." As if she couldn't kick his ass blindfolded and with one hand tied behind her back… "No. I'm afraid he's going to turn me into one of those needy clingy dependent little twits that I despise." And  _that_  was a fate worse than death.

Liam took a second to process the information. "Why would you think that?"

Gail shrugged in self-loathing. "Because I know I'm capable of it. It didn't happen often with Chris because we had our roles: I was the domineering bitch and he was the poor passive bastard everyone pitied." She started to idly spin the plate; quietly admitted, "If I don't have that part to play I don't know  _what_  I'm going to end up being."

Putting his fingers on the ceramic to halt its movement, he waited until he had her full attention. "Why do you have to play  _any_ part? Why can't you just see what happens naturally?" He found himself on the receiving end of an 'Are you stupid?' look, and suddenly remembered what she'd said earlier.

" _Control_ ," they declared in unison.

"So let me see if I have this," he began while she completely ignored the food in favour of another shot. "You want to be able to show your feelings but  _can't_  because that means giving up control. You want to be with him but you  _won't_ because you're afraid you'll suddenly become weak. And you think it's all just going to be  _okay_ because you have a metaphorical box with pretend dragons who protect you from yourself?"

Gail gave a sharp nod. "Yup – that pretty much covers it." She wasn't lying when she'd said she was fucked up…

Liam hated to break it to her, but, "You think if the box were still working you'd be sitting here right now?"

"I'm hoping if I get drunk enough I can forget that I'm not the only one my fucked-upedness is hurting." She tipped her glass at him before downing it. "So far, no dice."

"What's going on, Gail?" So far she'd given him the background and basis but not the catalyst for her visit.

Gail cursed her suddenly burning eyes. "I tried to cut it off at the pass, you know? It's not my fault he just wouldn't let it go, but I'm supposed to feel bad that he's suffering."

"Are you trying to say you don't?" Because her current state begged to differ.

"I'm  _saying_  he expects this miracle transformation that I just can't give him." And no amount of feeling bad in the world was going to change that.

And they were back at the recipe, the conversation having come full circle. "I don't think that's what he expects, Gail."

"Oh, what do you know?" she snapped, then took a shaky breath to calm herself. "I would if I could, you know? I would love for just  _one_ part of my life to be normal. But I don't know how to separate Gail from Gail Peck." She'd never felt the _need to_  before.

Liam felt for the girl; could only imagine how uncomfortable she was feeling in her own skin. "Okay, I'm going to ask you a very important question and I want you to be honest."

She  _really_ didn't like the sound of that…

"Have you told  _him_  everything you just told me?"

Gail slid on her trademark smirk. "I don't think he'd be happy to know just how quickly I'd mount you…"

Of course she couldn't remember the recipe at the center of this whole thing but she somehow remembered  _that_ … "Why not?"

 _Ugh._  "He  _knows_ , Liam." She ran annoyed fingers through her hair. "Hell, he thinks he knows me better than  _I_ do."

Even if that were true… "Don't you think he deserves to hear it from you instead of having to figure it out on his own?"

Gail didn't have an answer for that. Not one that she  _liked_ , anyway… Pouring herself another shot, she jutted out her bottom lip. "I knew you'd judge me…"


	32. Chapter 32

Dov let himself into his mom's house mid-morning, still with no idea where Gail had disappeared to. He was trying not to worry but she'd never shown up at work, wasn't answering anyone's calls, and – according to Bill – wasn't home and hadn't  _been_  home, either. Not wanting to worry  _him_ , Dov had hastily made something up about remembering she'd been going to breakfast with the girls. The  _same_  girls he'd only just left in order to shower, change, and get something to eat before meeting up again to brainstorm new places to search.

Mounting the stairs, he resisted the urge to throw his phone in frustration when the call once again went to voicemail. "Look, I know I said I was done but can you at least let one of us know you're alive? It's not like you to skip shift and we're starting to pan…" He stopped in his tracks, frozen by the sight of familiar blonde locks peeking out from beneath his covers. "Gail?" Of all the times he'd imagined having her in his bed it had never gone quite like this… "Gail!"

" _Hmm_."

Torn between relief and anger, he crossed his room and tugged the comforter down to reveal her features. "How'd you get in here?"

"Umm… I think I picked the lock." It was a little hazy so she moved her hand to her hair where she vaguely remembered storing the bobby pin she'd used. Fingers finding the cool metal, she advised, "You need a better lock." She flinched as lightning bolts invaded her brain, the streaming sun now with a direct path to her face. "And better drapes."

He watched her, unimpressed, as she hid beneath the pillow. "You're hung over."

"Thanks for the newsflash..." Sensing his disapproval – palpable even through the material – she grumbled, "Are you gonna get in or just stand there all day?"

Dov waged a fierce internal battle, resulting in an audible gulp. "Get up. I'll take you home." That was second only to the ultimatum as the hardest thing he'd ever said to her.

She was glad he couldn't see her forehead furrow, confused and more than a little hurt. "You're kicking me out?" Not that she'd planned this, but that was the one response she never would've expected if she  _had_.

"Either you're trying to keep me dangling on the hook or it's the alcohol talking." Either way, he woke up alone.

She may have spilled her metaphorical guts to Liam the night before, but now she was (somewhat) sober and the same confessions just wouldn't come. Sitting up to make a quick escape, the sudden movement sent her stomach into a tailspin. "I'm gonna be sick."

Dov sighed as he watched her run from the room covering her mouth. Texting the girls to let them know she was safe, he dropped his cell on his dresser before following the sounds of vomiting to the bathroom.

"Dov,  _leave._ "

He sat on the edge of the tub beside her, wordlessly taking over holding her hair in one hand and starting to rub her back with the other.

Gail's eyes began to water, though she couldn't say whether it was because of the retching or his gentle ministrations.

"Everything okay?"

Dov looked up to see his mother standing in the doorway, appearing nonplussed and totally awake; she must have been in the kitchen when he'd come in. "Yeah. Did you know she was here?"

Agi moved to the sink to run a cloth under cold water. "How could I not? She came in past three like a bull in a china shop." Handing it to him, she explained, "I would have called you but she went straight to your room and passed out. I figured you'd be home before she woke up."

"Thanks." He placed the cool fabric on the back of Gail's neck; decided not to mention that if his mom  _had_  called it would've saved them hours of needless searching.

Driven by a mixture of concern and guilt, Agi retrieved a couple of painkillers from the medicine cabinet. "Did she have a fight with Christopher?" Maybe she shouldn't have asked the girl to intervene on her son's behalf.

Gail derailed the awkward conversation with a flush of the toilet. "Can we  _not_  talk about me like I'm not here?" Moving to the sink she washed up and rinsed her mouth with a gob of toothpaste.

Agi gave the younger woman's arm a sympathetic rub as she swallowed the proffered pills. "I'll go make some tea and toast."

Once she was gone Gail slid down to sit on the floor, her back against the cabinets. "I blame you."

Dov let loose a sardonic snort. "Not that I'm surprised, but how exactly is this  _my_  fault?"

 _Easy..._ "I wouldn't be feeling like crap on a cracker if you'd just let me sleep." That's what she told herself, anyway.

 _Of course…_  "I guess I should've just ignored Goldilocks in my bed…" And the heartbreak that would have inevitably followed.

"Well,  _no_ ," Gail allowed quietly, "but most guys wouldn't kick her  _out_  of it, either." The analogy evoked visions of warm greasy porridge, and with them a renewed queasiness. Sliding the rest of the way down to the floor she settled flat on her stomach, cheek against the cool tile.

Dov wanted to ask what the hell she'd done to herself but didn't want to come off as controlling. Or  _concerned_. "Where's your car?" He would have seen it if it had been outside, and he was glad that at least she hadn't driven drunk.

Gail was feeling a definite chill, and it wasn't  _only_  coming from the ceramic beneath her. "It's at the Penny. Just give me a minute and I'll call a cab." After a moment's reflection, she added, "I need to borrow a phone. Mine ended up in a pitcher of beer."

Why hadn't they thought to check the Penny? Of course if they  _had_ they would have found her car but not her and that would arguably have led to worse assumptions... "How does a phone just 'end up' in a pitcher of beer?"

She shrugged as much as her position would allow. "It kept ringing."  _Duh._

"Pretty sure it's  _supposed_  to do that," he informed her with more than a little scorn. "Just like you're  _supposed_  to answer it..."

Really? Was  _that_  how that worked? "I wasn't in the mood for being sociable." Her night had been hard enough without having to  _answer_  to anyone about where she was and why she was there.

Of course she wouldn't spare a thought to how worried her friends might have been... "I guess planning B&E was a much better use of your time?"

She returned his contempt with some of her own. " _Yeah_. And it would have worked out a lot better if you'd gotten home while the dragons were still sleeping."

 _Dragons_? "Are you still drunk?"

"Ugh. I wish." At least then she wouldn't care that she was completely humiliating herself...

Dov had every intention of taking her home so she could sleep it off; told himself he was delaying because she was in no condition to move and  _not_  because, despite everything, he wasn't in any way ready for her to  _go_. "Are you going to tell me  _why_  you felt the need to break into my house?"

Gail gave a half-hearted shrug. "What's there to tell? You figured it out and foiled my devious plan to keep you 'dangling on the hook.'" Closing her eyes against the sudden stinging, she reopened them with a self-deprecating grin. "Even  _before_ I almost puked on you..."

"You're pressed into my bathroom floor like you want to melt into it and you're  _still_ cracking jokes." It was more irritation than adulation, though  _that_ may have been more because of the evading of the question than the inappropriate timing.

Cracking jokes was what kept her  _going_ , most days... "If I ever lose my biting wit it'll be because I'm dead, Dov. And even then, I've got a  _whopper_  saved up for my headstone."

Dov chuckled in spite of himself. "I'd say I can't wait to see it, but you know..."

She gave him a genuine, if muted, smile. "I'll be delighting and offending the masses long after I'm gone.  _That's_ gonna be my legacy."

The anger was slipping away, despite his best efforts. "Gail, I..."

"Here you go, sweetheart..." Agi took in the young blonde's location as she reentered the room; gently suggested, "Why don't you go snuggle up on the couch?"

"I'm good," Gail demurred, raising her head briefly in acknowledgement. "I've actually decided that if I ever meet the person who designed your bathroom I'm gonna marry 'em, 'cause this is about as close to heaven as I can get right now."

Dov leaned over her prone body to take the plate and mug. "Thanks, Mom."

Glancing contemplatively between them, Agi finally just shrugged. "Okay. I'm downstairs if you need me."

Once his mom had disappeared again, Dov offered a piece of the bread to the blonde. "Here."

Gail grimaced at the sight. "Since when is butterless toast the go-to food? What happened to, like, strawberry cheesecake?"

He lifted a sceptical eyebrow. "Do you really think you could keep cheesecake down right now?"

"If I said yes would you go find me some?" Testament to the way her life was going, she'd been eating way too much bland toast lately...

Dov  _would_ , and he suspected she  _knew_ he would. Rather than give her the option, he grunted, "Do you want this or not?"

Gail sighed. "What if I said that's not what I want?"

"Do you even  _know_ what you want?" He wasn't sure he hadn't imagined the implication, and didn't want to make a fool of himself if he  _had._

Focusing on the wallpaper, she avoided his piercing gaze. "Would you believe me if I said I  _did_ , but I'm having trouble figuring out the logistics of it?"

Logistics? It wasn't some big military campaign... "What's there to figure out?"

"Can you stop?" Gail groaned. "Answering questions with questions is  _my_ thing, and my head hurts enough as it is..."

Putting the toast back on the plate, Dov put it on the counter beside the mug before moving to lay beside her.

She really wished he hadn't done that, because this conversation was hard enough  _without_ having to look at him... "Say Chris didn't exist..."

"Harsh, but okay."

She rolled her eyes (quickly regretting it), then took a steeling breath. "...I still wouldn't know how to let you in."

He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

"You scare me, Dov," she admitted quietly. "Even if I could push past everything else..." The control issues, the emotional blockage, the Gail/Peck divide (or lack thereof)... "I'm afraid I'm going to end up needing you."

'So?' was on the tip of his tongue but he refrained; knew that just because 'need' wasn't a dirty word to him didn't mean it wasn't the worst kind of sin to  _her_... Hooking a leg over one of her calves, at least partially to keep her from fleeing, he reasoned, "Then we can be needy together."

Of course for him it was that simple. "And if we break up? Or something happens to you?" Just the thought was enough to make her nauseous again. "I'm right back to where I was fifteen years ago. And I can't do it again." She'd barely gotten through it  _then._

"I had no idea Oliver meant that much to you," he teased her, trying to lighten the mood. "He'd be flattered."

"Shaddup. I'm serious." There was a reason she'd never allowed herself to need Chris. Want? Definitely. Miss? Sure. Love? Eventually. But  _need_? Never. And yet, she'd  _still_  almost lost it when he'd been stabbed and they weren't sure he'd make it.

"Hey..." Brushing his fingers across her flushed cheek, he promised, "I'm not going anywhere." She had to know by now that he'd never leave her.

" _Please_. It's like you're in competition with Andy to see who can get into more trouble." And so far they were  _equally_  idiotic. "You know she's shacking up with Swarek right now while he's undercover? It amazes me how self-control and common sense fly out the window with you people."

Andy hadn't seen fit to share that little bit of info but that was not his main concern at the moment. " _You people_?" How had this even become about Andy and Sam, anyway?

"Yes,  _you people_ ," Gail confirmed without remorse. "Who just throw yourselves in head first and hope for the best."

Knowing that being lumped in with Andy could  _not_  be good for his case, Dov leaned in and suggestively murmured, "I only throw myself in head first when it's worth the risk."

Gail laughed bitterly. "Okay there, Mr. 'Let's steal from a drug dealer to win a stupid competition.'"

Dov didn't point out that she wouldn't consider the competition stupid if she'd been  _part_ of it; didn't  _need_  to, because he had a much better counter in the form of, "Okay Miss 'I'm not needy but I broke into your house to sleep in your bed.'"

Letting out a self-loathing groan, she hid her face behind a shaky hand. "It's happening already. I'm turning into Andy." As much as Gail didn't really like who she currently  _was,_ Andy would most definitely  _not_  be her role model of choice...

He removed her hand to hold it on the floor between them, clucking his tongue pityingly. "I think you beat even Andy with this one."

"Ouch." Way to kick a girl when she was literally down... "Remember the good old days, when  _you_  were the stalker?"  _She_  did. Fondly.

Dov snorted in disbelief. "Says the girl who's been ambushing me in the guy's locker room since we got to the 15? It's what, four times now?"

Gail sighed. "I did, didn't I? If I were the sentimental type I would say that that was like,  _our place_."

A band tightened around Dov's heart, and he withdrew from her. "What are you doing, Gail?" If she was only there to tell him  _why_  she wouldn't be with him, he didn't think he could take it.

"I don't know," she whispered hoarsely, her voice betraying the hurt of him pulling away. "I realized something last night."

When she made no move to elaborate he pointedly cleared his throat. "Uh, are you gonna share what it is with the rest of the class?"

 _Why is this so hard_?  _For sure it shouldn't be so hard..._  It took Gail everything she had to force her lips to form the words: "You let your emotions run you, but I let mine send me running."

"Thanks for the newsflash." He'd repeated her earlier smartass retort before he could stop himself, it was just so 'Captain Obvious' of her.

"I'm hardly in the mood to be mocked, Dov," she warned in a low growl. "If I weren't on the cusp of death right now I'd already be gone." [What was left of her] Dignity be damned.

Oh, he had no doubt. He kinda liked it when she was incapacitated and too busy trying not to be sick to censor what she was saying... "If you can't take it, don't dish it out," he advised, not unkindly.

Gail closed her eyes to his smirk. "I hate you."

He leaned over to place a mollifying kiss to her fingers. "If that were true you wouldn't be here."

"I'm complicated and I can multi-task," she argued, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "But seriously? I love you for being you but I hate what being you does to me. Or maybe I just hate that what you do to me is something I can't handle." Hot tears of frustration threatened to fall. "I don't know anymore. I had it all figured out last night."

The moment was bittersweet for Dov, unable to derive any joy from something that clearly caused her so much pain. "It was probably one of those things that's completely clear only  _because_ you're drunk and is complete nonsense in the sober light of day." Pretending not to notice her struggle, he winked, "I had a lot of those in college."

Gail cracked a watery smile. "Thank you."

"For getting drunk a lot in college?" he feigned misunderstanding.

"For not making a big deal out of it." She could have let it go, but he deserved to know it was appreciated.

"I didn't do it for you..." Running a fingertip down the slope of her nose, he joked, "If I  _had_  you'd be running away screaming and vomiting and then who'd have to clean up the mess?"

 _Not untrue..._  They stared at each other for a few minutes before Gail broke the silence with a hesitant, "I guess I'm asking you not to give up on me just yet."

Dov feigned considering it. "What are you asking for here? A week? A month?"

"Dov, I'm serious," she told him, even though she knew he wasn't. "I don't want to jump into something and then fuck it up because I haven't dealt with the shit I need to deal with." Which, sadly, was  _a lot._  "If we're going to do this, I want to do it right."  _Needed_ to do it right. She owed him as much, and, as counter-intuitive as it seemed, she owed it to Chris as well.

"Wait – 'if' we're going to do this?" He couldn't help but continue to taunt her, his previous attempt to ease some of the tension having failed.

"Dov..." She would have hit him if she weren't sure the effort would've been embarrassingly feeble.

"I'm kidding." Replacing his hand on hers, he marvelled, "I don't know what you were drinking last night, but I think I'm going to have to invest in a couple of cases."

It was more a combination of a bunch of things – crumbling resistance and general exhaustion included – but she wouldn't even know where to start so she didn't bother correcting him. "If you're going to invest in anything it should be a present for Liam. I almost feel sorry for the guy."

Dov made a mental note to do so. But, "Almost?"

"Well, he  _did_  have the pleasure of my company for an entire night. Makes up for the fact that I was a little looney toons at the time." Oh, well.

What he wouldn't pay for a video of  _that_ ; guaranteed a lot more was said than what she remembered today, and at the very least she was always an entertaining drunk. Claiming her hand, he brushed his lips across her knuckles. "Do I really make you that crazy?"

" _Yes_. My life would be so much easier if you'd just stay in the box." Maybe not better, but definitely  _easier_.

Moving so he was laying on his back (how on earth did she find this  _comfortable_?), he brought their entwined hands to rest on his chest, his other running up and down her arm. "The friend box?"

"Mmm. That too." If he'd just stayed in the 'friend' box she wouldn't have needed the  _other_  one.

Dov wondered if this other box had anything to do with the dragons, but ultimately decided it didn't really matter. "So what's the plan?"

Gail's eyes had drifted closed, his touch a blessed distraction from the queasiness. "I move out of my parents' house, figure out if I really  _want_ to be a cop, and start living for me." That was the plan, anyway; whether or not she actually managed to pull it  _off_...

Not that he wasn't glad to hear it, but, "I was talking about for us, Gail."

Oh, she knew... Opening her eyes, blue meeting blue, she gave him an uneasy smile. "Baby steps. You got my attention, okay? But if you keep pushing, my fight or flight instinct is going to kick in."

 _Again._  And they both knew which one always won out in  _that_  scenario... "Can you promise me one thing, at least?"

"What?" she asked, not without some apprehension.

His mouth twitched into a lopsided grin. "That it won't be another year before I get to kiss you again."

Gail had to laugh, the request was so absurd. "I said baby steps, Dov, not  _molasses_. And I didn't mean physically." He  _had_ met her, right? That was the only area she  _didn't_ have any hang-ups.

He'd meant it to be romantic, but her response put him on edge. "Are you saying you just want to be friends with benefits? 'Cause I..."

She quickly freed her hand to cover his mouth. "I'm  _saying_  I'm not ready to commit to a relationship." She knew it wasn't the answer he wanted, but it was the best she could give him right now if they were going to be honest. And really, she just didn't have the energy to lie.

Dov shifted onto his side and propped his chin in his palm. "That kinda sounds like the same thing, Gail."

Gail groaned, the jackknives in her brain intensifying with this new direction. "I'm  _trying_ , Dov. Isn't this better than where we were yesterday?" Gesturing around the room, she amended, "Well, except for the lying on the bathroom floor part..."

"I'm not arguing," he assured her after taking a calming breath. "I'm just trying to figure out what it means." And if she'd be able to use it later to backtrack.

He might not have been arguing but she knew he was disappointed. "If I could I'd just snap my fingers and make it so, but I  _can't_." Cupping his jaw, she pointedly held his gaze. "So you're just gonna have to work with me. Or, you know,  _not._  Your choice."

"Is this payback?" 'Cause he was getting a strange sense of déjà-vu...

"Huh..." She chewed her lip in apparent contemplation. "That hadn't occurred to me, but now that you mention it..."

He shook his head in amusement, because really? "There's no choice there, Gail." Not a  _difficult_  one, anyway.

"You're right," she agreed, tone suddenly colder than ice. "It's much better than the one you gave  _me_..." When the panic appeared, as predicted, she followed up with a deadpan, "You're just lucky I'm a nicer person than you."

Dov collapsed dramatically beside her. "Don't  _do_  that!" For a second there he was certain she'd already found her 'out.'

Okay, so she wasn't exactly  _nice_ , but she also wasn't so  _horrible_  as to forgive her father's transfer machinations and not Dov his. We're all manipulative assholes around here, so  _you_  get a free pass, and  _you_  get a free pass!  _Everybody_  gets a free pass! Running her fingers through his mop, she warned, "If you think I'm going to stop messing with you, you need to keep thinking." At least until he remembered who it was he'd fallen in love with.

"Fine, but can it  _not_  be on things like that?" She couldn't blame him for being a little insecure, considering...

"I'm not kidding, Dov. And I don't want you to stop messing with  _me_ , either." When she'd explained to Chris why they were no good for each other, she could tell he believed Dov would be the same in his position. The possibility bothered her more than she cared to admit. "I don't want  _us_  to change just because we're..."

"Dating?" he supplied when she trailed off.

It wasn't the word that had tears burning her eyes, or bile, her throat; it was the thought of Chris and the fact that she'd gone back on her word  _to him_  about not moving on to Dov. It was the realization that for every emotional hurdle she managed to cross (however ungracefully), there was another waiting just behind it to take her down.

Dov watched as grief claimed her features; could guess from the conversation where her thoughts had led: "Chris?"

Burying the sorrow to the recesses of her mind, Gail shook her head with a wry smirk. "Your career prospects – I saw your last performance review."

 _If_  it was a legitimate concern for her, which he knew it  _wasn't_ , that had been after the probation and before the meth bust... "Talk to me, Gail," he prompted, thumb grazing her knuckles. "Let me in."

The gentle request had her staving off a fresh urge to cry. "I'm just tired, Dov. It's been a long night." Week. Month.  _Whatever_.

Working through her 'shit' would be a lot easier if she didn't try to do it all on her own, but Dov knew it would take time to get her to realize that she didn't have to _._ Even longer for her to accept that it didn't make her  _less_ if she didn't _..._  "Let's try to get some sleep then, okay? But first we need to get some food into you."

"Yeah,  _no_ ," she immediately vetoed. "I was already  _in_  your bed. You lost your chance." When he'd unceremoniously ordered her  _out_  of it.

 _Salty much_? Giving her a cheeky grin, he challenged, "What happened to 'I didn't mean physically'?" She couldn't very well take away the only thing she was letting him have. Well, she  _could_ , but...

Gail tapped his cheek condescendingly. "Do I really seem like the kind of girl that needs a bed, Dov?"

 _Touché._  He adopted the earnest tone that seemed to be her ultimate weakness. "Come on, Gail – you know it's my turn to tuck  _you_  in." Tucking some errant strands of blonde behind her ear, he added, "I owe you  _two_ , actually."

"Hmm." Gail flashed back to the day that had started it all, when he'd sustained a blow to his nose and she one to her world as she'd known it. Except at least part of her had recognized even then that things had begun to change. What she  _hadn't_ realized was that it'd only been because  _she'd_  already changed enough to let them... "Pass me the toast. I'll eat while you go change your sheets."  _Only_ because the prospect of sleep was too tempting to deny.

He wouldn't ask whether her request slash demand was due to hygiene requirements or because she was just too cool for Batman; it was a little late for her to have an issue with  _either_ : "You were already  _in_  my bed, remember?"

"Yeah, well, hung over Gail has higher standards than bordering on alcohol poisoning Gail."  _Really,_  she just needed a couple of minutes to herself to process and regroup.

Dov sat up to retrieve the plate from the counter; held it out to her, then pulled it back at the last second. "Wait – is that your way of telling me you're going to take off while I'm gone?" He should've known she'd given in with too little of a fight.

Gail heaved a resigned sigh. "No. I've been running and I still ended up here." Granted, that was probably only because she'd had Liam egging her on (and dropping her  _off_ ) and she'd been too far gone to talk herself out of it. Come to think of it: "Do you have your handcuffs? We might need them when I sober up."

She didn't seem to be joking, and he tilted his head questioningly.

"Andy's suggestion. She used them with Callaghan. Don't ask." All he needed to know was that if she was willing to consider advice from Andy she was taking this  _for serious_.

Dov didn't need to  _ask_ ; mental images of Andy and Luke had already sprung to mind unbidden and unwanted. He thrust the food at her with a grimace. "Just eat." At least then she wouldn't be  _talking_.

Gail let him help her to a sitting position (only minimal nausea, thankfully) before taking the plate from him. "Anxious to use the 'cuffs?" she teased with a saucy wink.

As accurate as that may have been at  _any_  other time... "Uh... Maybe when my mom's not home."

Fair enough. The race car probably didn't have anywhere to attach them, anyway... "You know, you're gonna have to get an actual bed before that happens. Sex in a kiddie bed is a little weird, even for me."

So she  _did_ have limits... "Got it. New bed. New lock. New drapes." She sure was demanding, not that  _that_  was new... "Anything else, your highness?"

"You forgot the haircut," she smirked, ruffling his locks for emphasis (and her own amusement).

Dov rolled his eyes. " _You know_ , it'd probably be less trouble to just get a new  _girlfriend_." One that was actually able to commit, no less.

They both knew that was an idle threat. "Maybe, but could you get one as  _awesome_ as Peck?" The memory of trouncing him at Death Domain and being showered with praise for an entire day brought a nostalgic smile to her face.

 _Peck, you're awesome_... "You're right," he ceded, returning the smile. "It would be next to impossible."

A brow lifted in mock outrage. " _Next to_ impossible?"

She was so reassuringly predictable sometimes... In the process of standing, he paused to press a kiss to the top of her head; breathed into her hair, "Impossible would be finding one as awesome as  _Gail_."

When Gail's eyelids fluttered back open he was gone. Licking her dry lips, she wondered just how in the hell she was supposed to get the toast past the giant knot that had formed in her throat.  _Damn him._


	33. Chapter 33

Dov rang the bell to 'Peck Palace' with no small amount of trepidation, feeling a little like he was about to walk into the maw of the dragon. A brief burst of muffled [what he believed was] Spanish broke into his internal debate on how to greet Gail (he absolutely refused to kiss her cheek), and all thought fled completely when the object of his affections appeared in the doorway, back-lit by the glow of the chandelier. "Wow."

Doing a slow spin, Gail showed off the deep 'V' cut into the back of her gown. "You like?" The floor-length dress was fairly modest otherwise, that her one small act of rebellion. Well, that  _and_  the sapphire blue instead of navy...

"Wow." It seemed to be the only thing his brain was capable of expressing at the moment.

Gail laughed and turned towards the den. "When you're done your impression of a guppy you might want to come in and close the door."

He watched her disappear – entranced by the sway of her hips and the clicking of her heels against the marble – before shaking free of his stupor and complying. When he caught up she was standing behind the mahogany bar.

"Drink?" They were already half-made, and probably  _way_  too strong, but she was going to need some help surviving the night and if he hadn't nodded his agreement she would've just drank them  _both_.

"I still can't believe you're dragging me to this thing." He admired the view as she walked over; tacked on an appreciative, "Not that it doesn't have its perks."

Handing him one of the tumblers, Gail idly wondered why every invitation she extended was interpreted as an order, with their [completely voluntary] acceptance mischaracterized as being 'dragged'... "Got something against fundraisers, Dov?"

"As a general rule? No." He mentally adjusted to the fact that she was now taller than him. "But after everything I was kinda hoping our first non-pseudo date would be a little less 'Party Time' and a little more 'Just the Two of Us.'" Since she'd broken into his house he'd only gotten to see her at work, and given that they were keeping this – whatever 'this' _was_  – under wraps, their 'relationship' had stalled before it'd even started. Granted, they hadn't had much down time lately with Swarek getting kidnapped, but her repeated claims of 'busy' whenever they  _did_  had him worried she'd already pulled away. Now he didn't know  _what_  to think...

Gail had considered waiting until she had a truly free night but,  _silly her_ , had figured he'd prefer sooner rather than later. If the venue for their date was an issue, though, probably best they find out now... "You want to be with me, Dov? This is what happens when your family is a pillar of the upstanding community." She went to at least a half dozen of these things a year, and those were only the ones where her presence was 'required.'

Sure, that made sense at first glance, but, "You never took Chris..." Which made Dov suspect that  _maybe_  she was just using it to try to scare him off.

He was right – she  _hadn't_ taken Chris. Every time an event had been coming up she'd told herself that she was just being a good girlfriend, shielding him from the contempt of her family and the sheer and utter boredom. But what could she tell herself  _now_? That Dov was better capable of holding his own? Or that she just didn't care if he  _wasn't_? Well, she could _... Or_  she could finally accept the real reason (and just more proof she was actually a  _terrible_ girlfriend):  _she'd been afraid Chris would embarrass them_. Taking a big gulp of her spiced rum and coke, the burning in Gail's throat distracted her from that in her eyes. "Maybe I'm just testing your willingness to follow the plan." Baby steps meant she was allowed to use a room full of people as buffers, right?

Dov saw beyond the practiced grin; hated that every mention of Chris hurt her this way. "I thought the plan was to  _distance yourself_  from the family?" It was part legitimate question, part attempt to shift focus from whatever she had going on in her head (and undoubtedly wouldn't share if asked).

Gail quickly covered his mouth, her panicked gaze darting out into the hallway. "Cop or not," she explained in a strained whisper, "I'm still a Peck. Quite possibly a  _disowned_ one, but still a Peck." And the family's influence and responsibilities extended much further than the TPS, 'thanks' to the philanthropic endeavors of its womenfolk.

Taking her gently by the wrist, he pressed his lips to her skin before releasing her. "You sure you're not going to get disowned just for me being here? I'm not exactly your mom's favorite person."

 _Ha!_ That was an understatement. Even if Elaine  _had_ all but forgotten his insubordination in this very room, Gail hadn't done him any favors by staging a coup in his defense... "She'll deal."  _Hopefully._

 _Um..._ "She does know I'm coming, right?" He wasn't a genius but something told him that that would  _not_  be a welcome surprise.

"Of course she does," Gail assured him. "She's the organizer." And she'd had to get the ridiculously overpriced ticket...

That was like, ten times worse on the scale of insults... "And she didn't say, like, 'hell no' or 'not in this lifetime?'"

Gail's grin returned, but this time it was genuine. "Well she  _started_   _to_  – in far less proly terms, by the way – but then the strangest thing happened..."

 _Uh-oh._ The cat-that-ate-the-canary look on her face didn't bode well.

"I felt a debilitating cold coming on," she finished with a casual shrug.

Dov laughed. "And that  _worked_?"

"Oh, yeah. If there's anything more important to my mom than getting her way, it's keeping up appearances." And seeing as Gail had proven herself to be less than predictable lately, Elaine had apparently decided  _not_  to bet on it being a bluff.

"Gotta say, I'm kinda impressed." Moving towards her, he added huskily, "And a little turned on."

Gail put up a hand but didn't push him away. "Down, boy. 'Appearances' do  _not_  include wrinkled clothes and sex hair." Though his warm grip on her waist made it really damn tempting...

His lips fell into a dejected pout.

"Besides," she continued, fingers playing with the knot of his tie. "You wouldn't expect me to put out on the first date, would you?" It was laughable not only because it was  _her_ , but also because  _he_  was the one who'd taken sex off the table to avoid feeling like it was a fuck friends arrangement. She'd agreed to go along with it because,  _really_ , how long could that possibly last?

Dov sighed. His vow of abstinence was going to be killer, mainly because she barely had to do anything to make him  _regret_  it... "Speaking of appearances, have I mentioned how goddamned hot you are?"

Not in those words but the sentiment had been there... "You're pretty hot there yourself, Epstein. Did your momma dress you?"

Their 'whatever this was' aside, he was just grateful things were back to normal between them. "Did it all by myself," he told her with exaggerated pride. "Even managed to tie my own shoes. Bunny ears."

Gail bit back a laugh; dropped her voice to a sexy murmur. "Really? I'm thinking that deserves some kind of reward..." Gripping his shirt she tugged him forward, but the sound of heavy footsteps interrupted the moment and she retreated with an apologetic pat to his chest.

"Officer Epstein, so glad you could join us," Bill greeted as he entered the den. "Though I do hope you're not intending to monopolize my daughter tonight."

Relieved that they were cool, Dov grinned at the man while they shook hands. "I'm afraid I'm not very good at sharing, sir."

Bill nodded in approval. "Good answer. For the record, I would also have accepted 'I'll leave that up to her.'" Turning his attention to 'her,' he had to bend far less than usual to kiss her cheek. "Stunning as always, my love."

"Not too shabby yourself, old man," she teased as she mirrored his action. "Is mom not ready yet? We're supposed to leave soon."

"You know your mother. She got distracted with work and now Estella is trying to do an hour's prep in twenty minutes." Some things never changed.

 _Of course..._  "When's the last time you gave that poor woman a raise?"

"Your mother?" Bill deadpanned, not even pausing in pouring his scotch.

"Ha ha ha." Setting her glass on the table, Gail pointed a warning finger between them. "I'm going to go see if I can hurry things up. No embarrassing stories while I'm gone."

Bill motioned Dov to bring his glass over for a refill. "You mean like the one where you accidentally locked yourself in a cruiser?"

Gail felt her face heat. "I did that on purpose! I wanted to see how it felt to be on the other side of the grate."

"And you did. As I recall your eight-year-old self was not particularly fond of the experience." She'd only been stuck for about twenty minutes before someone had found her, but for a child that age it had likely seemed much longer.

"What about the time the guy at the bodega gave you decaf by accident and you spit it out all over Frank in parade?" Dov contributed. "Does that count?"

She hated them both so  _so_  much. "That's it – you two are never to be left alone together."

"We'll behave," Bill promised with a chuckle. "Now go help Estella tend to your mother or we'll never get out of here."

Gail grimaced. "Yeah, 'cause that's some big incentive." He knew how much she hated these things, and tonight's would be a million times worse than usual.

Bill pursed his lips in sympathy; reminded her, "Charity, love."

"Ya ya ya." It took all her self-control not to stick her tongue out at him. "I don't see why the big hoopla. Just write a check for an obscene amount of money and be done with it."

She  _knew_ why; he'd given her the same talk his parents had given him. "Because it gives bored rich people something to look forward to, and  _that_ , assisted by copious amounts of alcohol, helps to loosen otherwise knotted purse strings." Okay, so not  _quite_ the same talk...

Gail rolled her eyes as she started to walk out. "If I'm ever that bored, shoot me."

"I'll remember that," Dov called out to her retreating back.

She didn't even turn, just gave him the middle finger over her shoulder.

Noticing Bill staring at him, Dov's chuckle died a quick death. "I'm kidding. She knows I'm kidding."

Bill adopted his Inspector voice. "I suppose this is where I should give a 'You hurt my baby and I will make your life a living hell' talk, but I think you're already aware of what I could do to you, aren't you, Officer Epstein?"

"Uh..." Dov swallowed hard; forced himself to hold the man's piercing gaze. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Clapping the boy on the back, Bill explained, "I don't have Elaine's gift for oration."

The complete 180, then reverse 180, left Dov feeling more than a little off balance. "Got your message loud and clear, sir. And I, uh, want to thank you..."

Bill took a swig of his scotch. "My speech skills aren't  _that_ bad, son."

Dov shook his head. "No. For the transfer."

"Gail told you?" That was unexpected.

"Process of elimination." If it wasn't Gail and it wasn't Elaine... "I probably shouldn't be grateful for it, but I am."

Bill nodded in understanding. "I know my daughter, Dov. Sometimes she digs her heels in so hard it takes an earthquake to dislodge her. She gets that from Elaine." She got a whole lot more from Elaine than he'd care to admit, mostly because he'd given up trying to exert his own influence.

Dov gave a wry shake of the head. "As much as she drives me crazy sometimes, I couldn't imagine her being any other way." Lord help him.

That was probably for the best, seeing as she hadn't ever  _been_ any other way... "Even as a child she invariably got her own way. With everyone except her mother, that is. Although there was one time – I can't remember what it was concerning – she actually managed to outstubborn the reigning queen of stubborn by going on a hunger strike."

 _Hunger strike?_ "I really can't think of anything she'd willingly give up food for." Dov made a mental note to ask her about it.

"That's what made it so brilliant!" Bill praised, smiling at the memory. "Elaine had to finally give in because the alternative was to force feed her, and there was a  _very_  good chance we'd have lost fingers."

Dov shared the smile, then turned somber. "I'm surprised she actually gave in." Loss of fingers not withstanding.

Bill sighed internally. "My wife is not an irredeemable shrew, Dov – she loves her daughter very much and only wants what's best for her. She is, however, misguided in what that is and how to achieve it."

Realizing the man had closed ranks, Dov panicked a little. "Sir, I didn't mean..."

"Yes, you did," Bill interrupted what was bound to be a straight up lie. "But the truth is that I'm as much to blame for my daughter's shortcomings as her mother is. Somewhere along the way it just became easier not to fight the current."  _I was never meant to be a salmon, swimming upstream,_ he thought wistfully. "So I guess I owe you some gratitude as well."

Dov blinked in shock. "What for?"

"Giving me my daughter back. I can't remember the last time she needed me for anything, much less a shoulder..." He wouldn't say 'to cry on' – she'd kill him if she found out. "I wish it had happened sooner, but at least she's giving me a second chance to do right by her."

Gesturing to their formal wear Dov had to wonder, "By making her do something else she doesn't want to do?" The man's candidness had clearly given him a sense of security he wouldn't have possessed otherwise.

The boy wasn't wrong, but he wasn't exactly being  _fair_ , either... "Dov, my daughter will always have certain obligations." Alas, those were one of the few things she  _did_  get from him. "What I want is for her to have a fulfilling life  _outside_  of those obligations so that they're less a burden than they are a mild nuisance."

Dov got the distinct impression the man was speaking from experience, yearning for his daughter something he hadn't managed to attain himself. "I'm going to do what I can, sir, but she isn't exactly a big believer in happy endings."

Bill gave a sad chuckle. "No. That she's not." How could she, with them as role models?

"I said 'no embarrassing stories, not 'pretend you're at a funeral,'" Gail snarked as she rejoined them. "What were you talking about?" Her father seemed particularly morose so she made her way to his side.

Draping his arm about her shoulders, Bill pressed a kiss to her temple. "Just pondering the great mysteries of the universe, my love."

"The answer is 42," Dov supplied automatically.

Gail's brow furrowed as she looked between them. "What's the question?"

Dov was surprised when Bill joined him in laughter.

"The question, my little Lucy, is whether or not your mother will grace us with her presence before the car turns back into a pumpkin."

If 'Lucy' was lucky? No. Unfortunately: "She's right behind me."

Bill looked past her into the hall. "No, she's not."

"She will be..." Smirking, Gail revealed the phone she'd palmed. "In five, four, three, two..." Right on schedule a staccato clacking on the floor signalled Elaine's approach.

"Gail, have you seen my phone? I swear if I lose another one they're going to get their own line in the budget..." Elaine paused briefly as she entered the room, then proceeded to retrieve the blasted contraption from her nimble-fingered daughter. "Officer."

"Superintendant." It was going to be a long _awkward_  night.

Bill nodded at his wife's cell. "No work tonight, remember? You'll have enough to occupy your attention."

"You act like I do these things for my own amusement," Elaine snorted. "If only I could feign sick whenever I wanted to get out of something..."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Let it go, mother." Surely she had enough on her plate  _feigning_  they were one big, happy family... "Where is Steve, anyway? He meeting us there?"

"Your brother and his flavor of the week should have been here already." Why could no one ever be where they were supposed to be,  _when_ they were supposed to be?

"They've been dating for six months, Elaine," Bill told her, though this was not news.

Elaine waved him off. "That doesn't mean anything. The way kids change partners these days you'd be a fool to bother remembering their names, they're gone soon enough."

Too late Gail recognized the addressing of Dov simply as 'Officer' as the set-up it was. Moving across to him, she looped an arm through his. "Well, mother, not everyone can be lucky enough to  _strike gold_  on their first try." She waited a beat, then gave Elaine her coldest smile. "Finding their soul mate, I mean."

_Ouch._

" _Ladies_..." Bill cut in, not for the first time in recent weeks.

"I didn't say anything!" Elaine argued.

Gail shrugged. "Neither did I."

"I think you said I'm your soul mate," Dov offered, diffusing the situation the only way he knew how. Hopefully this time he wouldn't get punched for his efforts...

"That's not what I meant," Gail informed him with narrowed eyes. How dare he use her attempt to defend him ( _them_ ) against her?

Even though getting punched was looking more and more likely, he couldn't resist a shrugged, "Well, that's what I heard..."

 _Ugh!_ "We're going to wait in the car." She didn't check to see if he was following; barely stopped to grab her coat and purse on the way out.

Dov joined her just as the driver opened her door, which was quite the feat on her part considering she was in four-inch heels. "Limo?"

"Did you think we were going to take the Suburban dressed like this?" It wouldn't even have fit everyone...

Well,  _no_ , but, "Isn't it strange that we're showing up to a fundraiser for needy children in a  _limo_?" He was experiencing a touch of cognitive dissonance.

"Bored,  _vain,_ rich people, Dov," she told him once he'd settled in beside her. "And keeping up appearances."

Dov noticed that despite responding she hadn't actually looked at him. "Hey – you okay?"

What in the hell had she been  _thinking_? She had a hard enough time dealing with her mother and Dov  _separately_ ; now she had to deal with them simultaneously  _and_ while acting as a buffer between them? "This was a horrible idea."

She probably wasn't wrong... "You and your mom are like a slightly less violent boxing match." While entertaining, sometimes painful to watch. "Nasty little upper cut you've got there..."

Gail stared off into the distance. "I don't like fighting with her." Not so long ago she would never have even  _considered_  it.

He leaned his head against hers; whispered, "I don't like you fighting with her because of  _me._ " There were much better reasons to fight her.

"It's not about you," she denied, closing her eyes. "Not really. She's just retaliating against my less than submissive behaviour of late." Against the loss of  _control._

"She should count herself lucky," he joked. "Most girls rebel throughout their teenage years."

Gail leaned back to give him a questioning look.

 _Uh..._ "So I've heard..."

He was hearing  _a lot_  lately... "Maybe you  _are_  a bad influence."

"Because I want you to stand up for yourself?" They both knew that she'd only clapped back because of  _how_  Elaine had chosen to retaliate... " _Yourself_ , Gail. Not me, or your dad. Or whoever else you think needs your protection."

Gail's jaw clenched. "Drop it, Dov." The invitation had been for a fundraiser, not a session on the couch.

He wanted to ask her why she didn't think  _she_  deserved defending, but just then the door opened and the others began to file in.

"Who's this?" Steve asked, motioning to Dov as the car started moving.

"Dov Epstein," Dov 'introduced' himself. "We've actually already met."

Steve struggled to place the name and face, then nodded in recognition. "Right – you're Diaz' best friend." Turning to Gail he marvelled, "Not that I was a fan of the guy but that's pretty cold, little sister. Even for you."

Gail bit her bottom lip and directed her attention out the window.

" _Steven_ ," Bill warned.

Dov opened his mouth to say something –  _what_ he didn't know – but Elaine beat him to it.

"Watch yourself, Steven. You did plenty of regrettable things in your misspent youth you wouldn't want us rehashing for Cheryl's benefit."

Steve cringed. "It's Sandy, mom. Her name is  _Sandy_."

Sandy did her best to disappear into the leather seat.

"Her name could be Sarsaparilla..." The 'for all I care' went unspoken but was unmistakable in Elaine's tone. "Now apologize to your sister and her guest."

Hearing the guy's muttered 'sorry, sis' and seeing the way he shrunk in on himself, Dov realized that Oliver had been right about Steve being low man on the totem pole. But more importantly, Gail letting the comment go with nary a whimper told him that if they didn't deal with her guilty conscience soon they wouldn't stand a chance...

Feeling her hand being pulled from her lap, Gail met her father's worried gaze with her own teary one.

"Don't you mind your brother,  _Luscinia_. You do what's right for you."

She couldn't help but think her life had been so much simpler when she'd had someone telling her what that  _was_  and she hadn't questioned it _._  Squeezing his fingers, she forced a smile. "Thanks,  _tata_."


	34. Chapter 34

Gail pushed her empty plate away with a groan. "You'd think for $1000 a head they could afford a full portion instead of half of one."

The cost of the ticket had Dov choking on the food he'd been in the process of swallowing. The Superintendant was  _never_  going to forgive him at this rate... "Maybe they're saving the rest for the needy kids," he posited once he'd recovered, handing her his last piece of bread.

Appropriating her mother's plate, Gail used the bread to wipe up the remaining marinara sauce before popping it into her mouth and washing it down with a gulp of wine.

"You want to go mingle?" He motioned to where the other guests were beginning to do the same. They'd been left at the table with only Elaine.

Gail shook her head. "My mother doesn't mingle after dinner. She likes to hold court to see who comes to pay their respects." Or most importantly, who  _didn't._

Dov was about to point out that he'd asked  _her,_ not her mother, but the first of the loyal 'subjects' had arrived.

Once introductions had been made and pleasantries exchanged, Gail offered, "You can go hang out with my dad if you want. Schmooze our good city's elite. I think he's with the Chief right now, actually." No reason he should be stuck there, too.

"I didn't come here to schmooze the elite, Chief or not." As tempting as that opportunity was, "I came to be with  _you_."

Gail covered her surprise with a slightly breathless, "Schmoozing the Chief might have better payoff..."

He laughed at her failed attempt to appear unaffected. "Did you just insult your own company?"

Narrowed eyes turned into a full-out wince when Gail felt herself being kicked under the table.

Elaine stood to greet the approaching man. "Leo, how good to see you."

"Elaine, gorgeous as always." Leo looked around the room. "And quite the event you've put on. Not that that's a surprise."

"It was a joint effort, I assure you."

Leo kissed her cheek; whispered, "As modest as you are beautiful."

Elaine put her hand on Gail's shoulder and squeezed. "You remember my daughter Gail."

Gail rolled her eyes but stood to greet him with a forced smile. "Mr. Wells."

"Of course I do," Leo assured Elaine. "She's the only one in the room whose beauty rivals yours." Directing his attention to Gail, he continued, "No need to be so formal, my dear; Leo is fine. Brian insisted we come over and say hello."

"We're so glad you did." Elaine smiled at the younger man. "We were afraid you wouldn't be able to make it – your father said you'd be back in Victoria this weekend."

Brian returned the smile. "I postponed my trip. I never could resist a good cause."

"He postponed  _after_ I told him what was up for auction," Leo shared with a wink. "A good cause isn't the only thing he can't resist."

" _Dad_ ," Brian protested feebly.

Gail gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Does that mean we can count on you to bid?"

Leo nodded at Elaine as he clapped his son on the back. "You can count on him to  _win_. Isn't that right, son?"

"That's quite an endeavour," Elaine declared with a click of her tongue. "I dare say you'll have some competition."

"I don't doubt it, Elaine," Leo agreed with an approving nod to Gail. "But 'fail' isn't in a Wells' vocabulary."

Oh, Elaine could think of one thing he'd failed at, but she was too much a lady to bring it up. "Well – whatever the outcome – the children appreciate your support. Thank you for coming."

"Good luck," Gail told Brian, and she wasn't only referring to the auction. By the time the Wells' had moved on Elaine was already talking to someone else, and Gail flopped back into her seat. "Ugh. I hate that guy. Ever since he moved here to open their gazillionth store he's been trying to get into my mother's 'good graces.'"

Dov lifted an eyebrow. "Seemed to me he would take whichever of you was willing."

 _Eww._  "He doesn't want me for himself, but what he  _doesn't_  know is that Brian's engaged to someone back home in Victoria. He's just waiting for the right time to break the news that she's from the wrong side of the tracks."

"How do you know and his dad doesn't?" She wasn't exactly one to listen to the rumour mill.

"He told me on our first date." Apparently he'd wanted to let her down easy.

"Ouch."

"No. No 'ouch.'" She hadn't been interested in him in the least. "I only agreed to get my mom off my back, and  _she'd_ only agreed to get Leo off hers."

Dov's brow furrowed. "I would have thought she'd want you with someone like that." Handsome. Rich. Not some lowly rookie.

On the surface, yes, but, "She sees what Leo refuses to: that his only son doesn't have the motivation or the  _inclination_  to follow in his father's footsteps. Chances are when the old man kicks it the whole company'll be sold off to the highest bidder."

Fair enough... "Speaking of bidders, what was all that about?"

Apparently he hadn't been paying attention to the evening's offerings. Sliding the table's pamphlet over to him she advised, "15 Division's donation to the cause."

When they'd arrived they'd gone around the room looking at the various items up for auction but he hadn't seen anything from the 15. Opening the booklet he found the familiar sigil had pride of place in the first spread. "A ride-along?"

"Not  _just_ a ride-along," Gail sighed. "An entire day of excitement starting with a  _thrilling_ ride-along and culminating in a  _delectable_ dinner with the 15's hottest rookie."

"Andy?" Dov 'guessed' without looking up from his reading.

"Ha ha ha." She reclaimed the pamphlet and smacked him with it.

"Is this your punishment?" He didn't know how he'd feel about this being because of him.

Gail shook her head as she tossed her make-shift weapon back on the table. "This has been in the works for months." Her only condition being that she open the auction so she could get it over with quickly (and make an early escape). "Now I just have less room to complain..."

That it wasn't because of him didn't make Dov feel any better. "So you're just going along with it?"

"Well, she  _is_  my boss."

"Yeah, but she's not your  _pimp_ , though."

Gail tamped down on a flare of irritation. "It's not a big deal, Dov. I know most of these guys so it's not like she's 'pimping me out' to a complete stranger." Though knowing most of these guys she might be better off...

"Define 'know.'" He'd noticed upon arriving some of the guys acting more intimate than others. Hadn't been able to tell if it was due to a shared history or just a sense of entitlement.

Ignoring the insinuation that she was a slut (she couldn't say she hadn't been with anyone there but it certainly didn't encompass  _most_ ), she teased, "Do I detect a note of jealousy?"

Did he detect an attempt to dodge the question? He was actually grateful, though, because he'd since decided that he didn't really want to know... "Not jealousy; healthy caution. I didn't work this hard for some trust fund baby to swoop in and steal you away." That, and he still wasn't sure he was  _allowed_  to be jealous.

 _Aww..._ "Do you really think I'm going to be swept off my feet over eight hours of kiddie calls and a pretentiously expensive dinner?" He of all people should know she wasn't easily 'swept.'

 _No_. That's why he was worried about the ones she  _already_ knew...

Gail read his troubled expression; suggested, "You could always try to win it yourself."

"Do you want me to?" The thought hadn't even crossed his mind.

"No." Leaning into his ear she whispered, "Why break your piggy bank for something you can get for free?"

Dov enjoyed the shiver that ran down his spine; turned so that their lips were millimetres apart. "So next time we go out – on a  _real_ date –  _you're_  paying for the pretentiously expensive dinner?" He was tempted to win it anyway, just in case she got cold feet and went back to ignoring him.

Gail quickly backed out of his space. "Besides, bidding starts at ten grand."

Thankfully Dov wasn't eating anything because he would have been choking again. "Wow, your mom is confident in your appeal." Not that she shouldn't be...

Her mom was confident in  _everything,_ but,"Her reasoning here is more economic than arrogant. The 15 is covering my shift and the cost of the dinner but the foundation has to pay the extra insurance and legal fees. Turns out our liability policy precludes knowingly and willingly putting civilians in danger." She gave him a 'who knew?' shrug.

Dov didn't like the sound of that. "I thought you said you'd only be taking kiddie calls?"

"Supposed to be, but you never know." Shit happened,  _especially_  at the 15. "My mom won't leave the division open to a lawsuit, however remote the possibility."

If only she'd show the same concern when putting her own daughter in danger... He didn't say anything, though, because he knew that if he wanted this to work he had to stop letting everything bother him. Even if it rightly  _should_...

Disapproval radiated off of him and Gail's ire surfaced to meet it. "I'll be fine, Dov. If I survived a shift with you stoned off your rocker then I'll survive this one."

His face fell at the reminder. "Not funny."

"Wasn't meant to be. Between you and my father you'd think I was this fragile little flower incapable of taking care of myself."  _That_ was funny. If there was one thing Gail could appreciate about her mother it was that she didn't treat her as 'less than' just because she'd been conceived with two X chromosomes.

Dov didn't think she was fragile  _or_ incapable but he  _did_  think him addressing the real issue wouldn't go over well at all... "You could be Superwoman and we'd still worry – that's what happens when you love someone."

Gail's eyes narrowed at the implication that her mother didn't love her, then turned her attention to said mother when she suddenly felt her hackles rise in alert.

"David, you look well," Elaine greeted.

"Not as well as you appear to be." Giving her a cheeky grin, David sotto whispered, "Perhaps it's for the best my mother isn't here – you do incite such envy."

Gail rolled her eyes at her mother's girl-like giggle.

"I was wondering why I hadn't seen Monica yet. Is she sick?"

"I'm afraid so. Deena visited with the children and now mother's come down with a terrible cold." David pursed his lips sympathetically. "But she insisted I come anyway so I found a date at the last minute and here I am."

_Yay._

Dov noticed Gail's rigid stance. "Everything okay?"

Gail nodded.  _Just peachy._

"So that petite brunette I saw you come in with isn't your girlfriend?" Elaine innocently inquired.

Leave it to her mom to be scoping out potential suitors...

"Just a friend. To be honest I was hoping to spend some time with your beautiful daughter..."

"Well I'm sure my  _beautiful daughter_  wouldn't be opposed to saving you a dance."

Draping his arm over the back of her chair Dov marvelled, "She knows I'm right here, right?"

Same way she knew  _Gail_  was right there? "Please – we could be married and she'd do the same thing. Only with divorce papers in her clutch, ready to go."

"Easy there, Tanto," Dov joked, putting his hand up as though to ward her off. "We're on our first date and you're already talking marriage."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Are you going to find some secret message in everything I say?"

"Yes," he admitted without hesitation. "Because everything you say is usually a front for everything you're  _not_ saying." He was just bugging her but really, it wasn't all that far from the truth.

"Isn't that right, Gail?" Elaine repeated loudly.

Playing the background exchange over in her head, Gail found her missed cue and gave David a flirtatious wink. "If he wins the auction he can have me to himself for an entire  _day_."

Elaine's eyes lit up. "Well isn't that a splendid idea? Two birds, one stone."

And  _that_ was how you subtly rebuffed a skeevy momma's boy millionaire... Turning back to Dov, Gail resumed  _their_  conversation. "Not this time. Rest assured I am  _not_ mentally planning our wedding." She still wasn't sure they'd even make it through the  _night_...

Dov grinned. "So you  _were_  saying I'm your soul mate..."

 _Ugh._ "Why did I invite you again?"

Another half hour passed of receiving guests with thinly veiled intentions before Dov couldn't take it anymore. "Come on."

Gail's gaze flitted to her mother. "Come on where?"

"To dance." Noting that Elaine was listening, he dropped his voice. "Before one of your many admirers decides he wants to sample the merchandise."

She knew he didn't  _mean_ to call her a whore but the result was the same... "I don't dance."

"Then you need to practice," he advised, undeterred. "I'm sure your pretentiously expensive dinner will involve a waltz or two."

Elaine lifted a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Does that mean you  _can_  waltz, Officer Epstein?"

Dov grinned at her, knowing he had at least one of them on the hook. "My grandmother dragged me to one or two of these things when I was younger. It's been a while but I wasn't called Fancy-Feet Epstein for nothing."

Gail rolled her eyes, both at his claim and the blatant attempt to win over her mother. "Who called you that?"

He ignored her question; sent his lure back out to catch the one he'd missed. "Then again, you probably don't want me showing you up on the dance floor..."

"I said I  _don't_ dance, Twinkle-toes, not  _can't_." She'd been to more than her fair share of these things herself.

"Fancy-Feet," he corrected, internally celebrating his imminent victory. "Prove it. You can give potential bidders a preview at the same time."

Gail realized the last part was designed to appease her mother; didn't know whether to be impressed or scared that he already knew how to manipulate them  _both_.

"Go," Elaine dismissed her daughter with a wave. "Now that people are fed and sufficiently lubricated it's time I go set up for the auction anyway. I'll have someone come get you when we're ready to start."

Sighing, Gail took his extended hand. "Fine, but if your fancy feet land on mine we're going to have a problem." Her tootsies were already tender from the shoes.

Dov stood and led her to the dance floor in the center of the room. As soon as they were in position in the midst of the other couples he could feel her trying to take charge. "Think you can let me lead?"

Gail realized what she was doing; snarked, "I was trying to spare you the embarrassment."

Right, because her leading was  _so_  much less embarrassing... "You know if you stopped being such a control freak for a minute you might be pleasantly surprised..."

"Fine..." Taking a deep breath, she reluctantly allowed him to set the frame. "Show me what you've got, Mr. Epstaire..."

"Here?" Dov wondered with an easy smirk as they started to move. "I don't think the other guests would approve."

" _Dork_." She cursed herself for the weak insult. She couldn't help it; she wasn't used to non-physical relationships, and his refusal to 'give away the milk for free' was as frustrating as the idiom was cringe-worthy. He was going to be in trouble when she'd finally had enough of his bluffs and decided to put his resolve to the test...

Dov's smirk grew bigger when she stumbled. "Having trouble keeping up?"

"You put on 4-inch heels and then we'll talk," Gail growled, loathing that he was able to put her off balance, figuratively  _and_  literally. He  _was_  good, though, and she suspected his mom had dragged him to dance classes with her as well. Or, more likely,  _he'd_ suggested it as a way to distract her during the separation.

She stumbled again and Dov paused, concerned. "You okay?"

Gail blinked at him; forced a smile. "Yeah – I just got stuck in my head there for a second." Thoughts of him being the man of the house while his mother overcompensated and his brother imploded... "Ready to do this thing for real?"

He didn't know if there was a double-meaning there but either way his response would've been the nod he ended up giving her. This time when they began to move she kept up.

They finished that song and another in silence while she concentrated on not screwing up, which had the added benefit of not giving her time to  _think_. Hearing the slow opening strings of the next song her gaze immediately sought out her father, finding him standing nonchalantly by the orchestra. Mouthed 'Really?!' at him, and groaned when his response was a shrug and a smile.

Dov pulled her to a stop. "Something wrong?"

Gail shook her head. "My dad isn't exactly subtle."

And judging by her tone she wasn't exactly  _pleased._  "We can sit this one out if you want..." He didn't recognize the song but she seemed to.

"It's fine." Settling her arms around his waist, she closed the gap between them and bent a little to rest her head on his shoulder.

It didn't seem fine but Dov wasn't about to ruin the moment by pushing it; instead pulled her closer and began to move them in lazy circles. "Is this Bob Dylan?" he asked when he finally placed the tune.

She kept her eyes closed, still swaying to the music. "Yeah. Appropriate for a room filled with old money trying to hold onto the last vestige of its importance, no?" _The Times they are a-Changin'._

Dov scanned the room's ostentatious occupants; chuckled, "I think you're giving them too much credit: most of them haven't even realized they're no longer relevant."

"True." She never would have said such a thing to Chris, much less expected a  _response_ , and she hated that she couldn't help but compare them. "Hey – do you want to get out of here after I do my daughterly duty?"

"And go where?" It was simple curiosity; he would've followed her anywhere she wanted to go.

Gail turned her head so her lips would brush his neck as she spoke. "Well, I  _was_  going to book a room upstairs, but seeing as you're taking this hands-off approach..."

"Not cool, Peck," he grunted, fingers tightening on her waist.

 _Too bad..._  If he was going to so selfishly deny her she certainly wasn't going to make it  _easy_ for him. Even if she  _did_  suspect that particular act of intimacy would destroy any  _vestige_  of her own emotional detachment... Taking pity on him she straightened. "I was thinking we could get an actual meal and make our pseudo date  _real_ at the same time."

Dov's forehead scrunched in surprise. "You want to go to the arcade?"

"Why not? I'll show you I can  _still_  kick your ass, even in a gown and heels." If they weren't going to have sex she should at least get the satisfaction of making him her bitch. Again.

As sadly accurate as that probably was, it didn't make him want to go any  _less_. Except: "What about your mom?" First the expensive ticket and now going AWOL – was she  _trying_  to make Elaine hate him?

Meh – her mother was used to her disappearing acts... "As long as I kick off the auction she'll deal." Tracing patterns on his chest, she muttered a teasing, "Unless you've got your heart set on that gaudy bronze unicorn I saw you admiring earlier."

Dov claimed her hand and brought it to his lips; pressed a kiss to the soft skin of her wrist. "There's only one thing I've got my heart set on and it's not the unicorn." Though it  _was_  just as elusive...

It wasn't the words so much as how he'd said them – all soft and suave yet  _sincere_  – that had her heart speeding up and her body tensing in his arms; had the  _panic_ setting in... "I'm uh... I'm gonna go see if my mom needs me."

Before Dov could stop her she'd slipped away into the crowd.  _Way to go, Epstein..._


	35. Chapter 35

"That's fifth up," Elaine announced, consulting the list in her hand. "Put it before the Symphony tickets." The volunteer scurried away with the Cartier box, crossing paths with her daughter who was approaching at a clipped pace. "What are you doing back here? We don't need you for another twenty minutes."

"I needed to get away for a bit." Peering through the curtain, Gail was relieved to see Dov moving in the direction of her father rather than towards the stage.

When she turned back – her face somehow paler than usual – Elaine resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "For God's sake, I'm introducing you  _and_  we have an auctioneer; you don't even have to speak."

"It's not that..." Realizing she'd just acknowledged there was  _something_ , Gail tacked on a curt, "I'm fine."

 _Right_... Elaine handed the list to her assistant, a wordless indication to take over. "You know, Gail, most girls talk to their mother about what's bothering them."

Gail scoffed internally; refrained from pointing out that those girls didn't have  _Elaine Peck_  for a mother.

They stared at each other in an uneasy standoff until Elaine gave in with a sigh. "Fine. Seeing as you're here we might as well touch you up now."

It was more to ensure she didn't pull a disappearing act than because her makeup needed fixing, Gail was sure... Following her mother backstage to the vanity, she retrieved her makeup kit from the duffle their driver had brought in earlier.

"Sit."

Doing as she was told, Gail set the kit in her lap and closed her eyes. After a few minutes of being worked on, and an intense internal debate, she broke the silence with a deceptively casual, "Did you ever love dad?"

Elaine's hand stilled. "What kind of question is that?"

"An easy one, I would think." She would  _hope,_ anyway...

"Of course I did," Elaine 'tsk'ed, resuming her task. "Honestly, Gail, I don't know where you come up with these things."

Gail opened her eyes, as though her gaze could compel her mother to be honest. "I want the truth, mom. Not the PC answer or the one you think I want to hear."

Well aware of her daughter's – and most everyone  _else's_  – assumption, Elaine decided to set the record straight. "I may have been attracted to your father because of the power, but I  _married_  him because I loved him."

Past tense twice in a row – Gail would've been happier with a 'no.' "So what happened?"

"What do you mean?" Elaine puckered her lips in demonstration.

If the confusion was feigned – an attempt to get her to drop it – her mother would be sorely disappointed. "You said 'did' and 'loved,'" Gail mumbled best she could while the lipstick was applied.

Elaine cursed her failure to watch her words, especially with the more perceptive, or at the very least more  _cynical_ , of her children. "This is hardly the place for this conversation, Gail."

"You said you wanted me to talk to you."

"About what's bothering you."

" _This_ is bothering me." Gail was surprised to realize it was true.

Elaine sighed, resigned. "I will always love your father for what he's given me."

Gail ignored the pain in her chest; covered it with a scathing, "That's very touching, mom; you should submit it to Hallmark."  _For the sugar daddy in your life..._

"For God's sake, Gail, I was talking about you and your brother." Her daughter was becoming less and less subtle about her perception of her, and Elaine was having a harder and harder time pretending it didn't have an effect. "Contrary to popular belief, I never cared about the money. I didn't have any growing up and I would've been just as happy without it." Okay, maybe not  _just as_...

"You say that like your family was poor." Gail had always had her suspicions, but since they never talked about them...

One by one Elaine began to remove bobby pins from her daughter's chignon. "Worse. Poor and  _traditional_." She couldn't help the bitterness that had crept into her voice. "No matter what I did I got half the credit my brothers did, because all my parents wanted was for me to settle down and be the good little housewife my mother was."

Well no one could ever accuse her of having done  _that_...

"Until the day my father died he worked two jobs just to take care of us. And the day he died my mother was left with nothing. She  _was_ nothing." Swallowing hard, Elaine smoothed the blonde hair she'd set free of its confines. "It didn't take her long to follow him."

Her mother had never sounded as despondent as she did in that moment and it took Gail's breath away. "You never told me."

Elaine pulled herself out of the memories; bent to take the uniform cap from the bag. "Gail, I may have married into the Peck name but I have earned it, and I am  _something,_ with or without your father."

"I don't think dad resents you for that." The way she lorded it over him sometimes, maybe.

"God, no. If anything he's  _grateful_  for it." Absentmindedly running her fingers over the cap's fabric Elaine explained, "Your father never needed or wanted to be king of the hill; he's happy just hanging out  _on_ the hill with his friends. Sometimes I wonder if subconsciously he married me because he knew I'd take up the family mantle and he wouldn't have to."

Well, that was the  _opposite_  of what Gail had assumed. "You don't really believe that..."

Elaine looked at her startled, realizing that the last part had been aloud. "I believe that your father accepted who I was and who I wanted to become because it benefitted him. But for you he wouldn't make the same concession."

 _Accepted? For me?_ "What are you talking about?"

"The Pecks were traditional, too," Elaine shared with a grimace. "Boys were raised to continue the legacy, girls to marry well and represent socially. To stick to their 'strengths.'" It hadn't been easy, being the first Peck wife  _not_  content standing in her husband's shadow while quietly expanding the family's influence. And so Elaine had had to do it  _all_ – career, children, philanthropy – just to prove to them that she was  _worthy_. "Having married me I thought your father had been disabused of that kind of thinking, but from the moment you were born he treated you differently than your brother. Like a little glass doll. Like my father had treated me. And I couldn't let  _you_  be nothing, either."

Gail tried to take it all in but one thought dominated all others: "So it's  _my_ fault."  _Good talk_.

"No, it's mine," Elaine assured her. "You had a trust fund – I could've let the chips fall where they may and you would have been fine regardless. But where there was no doubt in your father's mind that your brother would join the force he wouldn't even consider the possibility that  _you_  would, and I couldn't abide by that. I wouldn't allow you to grow up thinking you were weaker, or less capable, or that there were things you  _couldn't do_ ,simply by virtue of being a girl." Wouldn't allow her to feel as though she was  _less than_ , the way Elaine herself had been made to feel. "I had to choose between my marriage and standing up for my daughter. It was  _my_  choice."

That didn't make Gail feel any better. Or any less  _responsible_. "You couldn't have compromised?" Not that she should have had to compromise with misogyny but it had placed Gail squarely in the middle of their tug-o-war.

Elaine shook her head. "There's no possible compromise with diametrically opposed goals, Gail. He wanted to limit you and I refused to let him. The more he babied you, the more he tried to put you into this box, the more I pushed you in the other direction to make up for it. By the time he gave up I'd dealt with far too many insufferably entitled good ol' boys for 'equal' to still be good enough – I was determined that you would show men like them and your father and mine that you were  _better._ " And maybe she'd also needed the payoff to outweigh everything she'd given up.

"Except it didn't  _work_ ," Gail told her with a rueful sigh. "I'm not  _better_ , mom; I'm just the worst parts of both of you in one neurotic, sociopathic little package." Cold and privileged and manipulative and  _unambitious._

Pulling up a chair Elaine sat in front of her; chastised, "Don't say that. You  _are_  better. Gail, I wouldn't have pushed you so hard down this path if I didn't know you were  _made_ for it."

Gail barked out a bitter laugh. "That's funny, considering all I ever hear from you is how I'm not doing enough. How I'm not going to make it."

Elaine flinched at the pain in her daughter's eyes. "I was trying to  _motivate_  you; make sure you get to the top where you belong. You may have my gift for the job but you have your father's drive." Or lack thereof. "Did I ever tell you how I knew?" she continued when her daughter appeared unmoved.

"No." Gail wasn't even sure she  _wanted_ to know, this conversation had gotten so off track.

"You were a spoiled princess, used to being the center of everyone's universe, and when it came time for preschool you  _hated_  it. Couldn't stand not being the educators' sole focus so you started picking fights. You were kicked out of four different daycares before we declared it a lost cause." Elaine had blamed Bill, having warned him that there would be consequences to their coddling, but she couldn't be too angry: "I convinced your father that you'd never get any better staying at home alone with Estella so the only way to properly socialize you was for him to take you to work with him every day." Not that it had taken much convincing.

"You tricked him..." There wasn't an iota of surprise in Gail's voice, just statement of fact.

"I took advantage of an opportunity that had presented itself," Elaine breezily corrected. "You loved it so much – having found an outlet for your talents and a new group of admirers to shower you with attention – that when school was starting you begged us not to make you go. Then you outright  _refused_. Your father was contemplating hiring a tutor for home-schooling when I decided to try something."

"What?" Gail didn't remember any of that. Well, except for her profound hatred of school...

Elaine smiled at the memory. "I showed you the prerequisites for getting into the academy." A formal education being one of them, of course.

The smile was proud, though Gail didn't know if it was for her own early ambition or her mother's cleverness.

"Besides, your father had tricks of his own. When you were a few years older we enrolled you in after-school programs to try again to get you to interact with children your own age, but after the third time another division picked you up trying to hitchhike to the 15 we gave up on that, too. It made him finally accept that it was what you  _wanted_ , not what I was forcing on you, but instead of conceding defeat he just tried to scare you off it. Let you see all the worst parts of the job – things no child should ever see – and by the time I realized what he was doing the damage had been done." She'd been too preoccupied with getting the Constable promotion to notice when her daughter had stopped animatedly sharing stories about her day; ceased that annoying habit of singing under her breath. "But it  _hadn't_ changed your mind; it had only made you quiet and jaded and angry at the world. More determined to  _fix_  it..." Elaine still wondered sometimes if she would have let him win if it had meant preserving her daughter's innocence. It didn't matter, though; the only thing she could do now was make sure the sacrifice hadn't been for nothing.

A memory came back to Gail, of hiding out in Steve's room with him while their parents screamed at each other across the hall. Their mother asking their father how he could do it, if he'd really traumatize their daughter just to win, and swearing that she would never forgive him. Their father yelling that it was nothing compared to what Gail would go through if she became a cop herself, that that's what he was trying to avoid, and that the end would justify the means. She remembered a teenaged Steve holding her tightly, crying along with her and mumbling about how their father didn't care about him that way. Back in the present, Gail took a shuddering breath; wasn't sure how she felt about it all.

After that Elaine had gone down to check on them often, his promise to limit what their daughter was exposed to the only reason she'd allowed it at all but still not entirely trusted. Not long after he'd proved she was right not to when she walked in on that poker game, and it was the last chance she would ever give him to undermine her or try to derail Gail's future. Taking the cap back from her daughter Elaine set it atop her daughter's head and tucked blonde locks behind her ears. "Anyway, that's how I knew."

The story only served to make Gail sad. Sad for what had happened and for what should have been. "That was more than half my lifetime ago, mom. A lot has changed since then." Like her mother having gone from supportive to exacting and overbearing.

Elaine didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing." She'd meant that if being Elaine was what it took to get to the top then Gail didn't want it. It was lonely enough being  _her._ She couldn't bring herself to say it, though; knew her mother had only done what she'd had to do, as she'd told Liam. "Now that the fight for my soul is over do you think you and dad can ever get back to the way things were?"

Her assistant appearing stopped Elaine from pressing any further but also saved her from having to answer in the resounding negative. "Are we ready?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Alright, tell everyone ten minutes." Once he had disappeared Elaine turned back to her daughter. "Can I assume this sudden interest in my marriage has to do with your own personal life?"

Gail felt her cheeks heat. "Before you flip, I'm not looking to get married."

Elaine lifted an eyebrow at her reaction and the non-answer. "But you  _are_ comparing my relationship with your father to yours with Chris and Dov..."

Swallowing the sudden lump in her throat Gail demanded, "Why would you bring up Chris?" He wasn't even there and yet it seemed she could never escape him.

Why indeed... "Because if there was ever a case of a girl dating a substitute for her father it was that one." She'd thought her daughter perceptive enough to have realized that.

Of course Gail had noticed some similarities but  _eww._  "I don't have an Electra complex if that's what you're insinuating."

Elaine had to laugh at the pure disgust in her daughter's tone; placated, "Obviously not if you gave him up for this one."

"I didn't give him up  _for_ 'this one,'" Gail immediately disputed, "And you know 'this one's' name." She'd used it not two minutes before.

"No need to get defensive, Gail," Elaine informed her with a mollifying pat to the knee. "I tend to share your brother's opinion, agreeing with the result if not the method."

Gail's eyes jerked from her mother's hand to her eyes. "Did hell freeze over? That almost sounded like approval..."

Lifting her hand Elaine waved it dismissively. "Don't get too excited – I'm only saying that I find Dov to be less objectionable." At least he showed initiative and more character than a limp noodle.

 _Silly me..._  "I would have thought you'd prefer Chris for his malleability," Gail admitted, shrugging.

"God, no." It was why Elaine had dismissed him so easily – she wanted her daughter to have an equal partner, not a mindless sycophant. "I'd  _prefer_  for you to be with someone else entirely – someone who will motivate you because clearly you aren't self-propelling – but you refuse to listen to sound counsel. Barring that I'll settle for someone not intent on turning you into Holly Homemaker."

Dov wasn't exactly leading the pack there, his talk of marriage and kids what had started this whole thing, but Gail was smart enough to keep that to herself; decided to tease her mother instead. "What if I  _want_ to be Holly Homemaker?"

That had better be a joke because Elaine's heart wasn't strong enough to take it if it wasn't... "This doesn't change anything, Gail. I still expect you to accomplish everything I know you're capable of. If you can do that  _and_ have an unconnected relationship then we won't have a problem."

"Yes, ma'am," Gail acquiesced, saluting her. There was a lot to think about regarding her future with the force, but there was no point in borrowing trouble until she knew there was trouble to be had.

"Good." Squeezing her daughter's hand Elaine claimed it, pulling them both to their feet for a last once-over. "Now smile – we're offering them a day they'll never forget, not a set of encyclopaedias."

Gail gave her mother a cheeky grin. "Lend me your glasses and I bet I could sell  _both_."

" _Now_  you get industrious," Elaine sighed.


	36. Chapter 36

Dov glanced nervously around the ballroom as the auction continued, trying to shake the feeling that he'd been abandoned. Gail had left the stage nearly a half hour before and still had yet to reappear.

Sensing the boy's discomfort Bill raised his voice to be heard over the auctioneer. "Relax, son – she'll be back."

"I know." But Dov  _didn't,_ not for sure, anyway. Not after the way he'd scared her off earlier.

Gail snuck up behind him – a finger to her lips so the others wouldn't give away her approach – then slid her hands down his chest to deposit the ticket stubs in his shirt pocket. "Go get our coats from the check and meet me in the lobby in ten."

By the time Dov recovered from the unexpected voice in his ear she'd already retrieved her purse and was making her way over to the Chief's table. He watched her kiss the man's cheek and crouch to talk to the winner of the ride-along (the Chief's brother, Dov had been much relieved to learn), and he smiled at how quickly she had the table's occupants laughing. "Uh..."

"It's fine," Bill told him with a jut of his bewhiskered chin. "Go have fun."

Dov said bye to the others and, following her instructions, was seated in the lobby with two minutes to spare.

"Mademoiselle Peek, votre chauffeur a appelé. Le tout est fait et il sera de retour sous peu."

"Formidable! Merci, Marcel."

Looking up at the unmistakeable sound of Gail's lilt, Dov saw her across the room talking to the concierge and got up to join her.

When Dov approached, her coat open for her to slip into, Gail shook her head and took it to drape over her arm instead.

Dov's brow furrowed but he said nothing. "Are we going?"

Gail saw the doorman enter and give her a nod. "Yeah." Taking Dov's proffered arm they followed the man outside into the chilly night air.

"We're stealing the limo?" He didn't know why he sounded so incredulous. It was  _her,_  after all...

"Borrowing," Gail breezily amended. "They won't need it for a few hours anyway."

Dov groaned. She seemed  _determined_  to make her mother hate him.

Nodding her thanks to the doorman Gail entered the vehicle with a lack of decorum that would make Elaine cringe, tossing her coat and purse unceremoniously on the lateral bench. As soon as the door closed behind them she put her back against the wall, kicked off her shoes, and nudged her stockinged feet into Dov's lap with an exaggerated moan. "Thank God that's over. My face hurts from all that pretending to be sociable."

"That's what happens when you don't use muscles for a long time," he teased, taking the hint and beginning to massage an arch, "They atrophy."

"Mmm." She was enjoying what he was doing too much to take offense, especially since he wasn't wrong. "I guess I just haven't had much reason to smile lately." Her scowl on the other hand had gotten  _plenty_  of use.

Dov looked up from his task to meet her hooded gaze. "I'm going to change that, you know."

It was so matter-of-fact, so  _earnest_ , that it made Gail's breath hitch. "Well, aren't you confident."

"No, just motivated." As special as her genuine smile was for its rarity, he selfishly wanted to see more of it. And if he could be the cause of it, all the better... He wouldn't tell her that though because judging by her even stare she was  _already_  ready to toss him out at the next light. "I mean, can you imagine the house cred I'd get if I made you  _approachable_? I'd be hailed as a king."

He probably wasn't wrong  _there,_  either... Grateful as she was that he'd diffused the chick flick moment, though, she would still make him pay for  _creating_  it... "Speaking of muscles in danger of atrophy..." She lifted an eyebrow and gently toed his crotch.

Dov snagged the offending extremity before it could go any further. "A: Ask any guy and he'll tell you if it actually  _were_  a trainable muscle it'd be a lot bigger. And B..." Resuming his ministrations he gave her a crooked grin. "Don't you worry about him – he's been  _very_  active since I met you."

Gail had to laugh. "You're lucky I'm like the  _one_  chick on the planet that would take that as a compliment." And not, say, an invitation for a restraining order or a punch in the face.

"Works out then because you're the only one it  _applies_  to," he shrugged. Dead silence followed – her watching him calculatingly, him her unwaveringly – until her eyes took on a feral glint and her feet slid out of his lap and he realized he was in trouble. "Gail, no."

"You know, Dov..." Kneeling on the seat beside him Gail lowered her voice to a sultry whisper. "For a guy who  _isn't_  trying to get into my pants, or in this case  _up my skirt_..." She hiked said skirt up to throw a leg over both of his. "You're doing a damned good impression of one."

Dov instinctively gripped her waist as she settled onto him, his head dropping back against the leather to look up at her. "I'm just being honest. It's not my fault you make it so easy."

She bought herself time by raking her nails through his freshly-cut (and thankfully not  _too_  short) hair; managed to dispel the knot in her throat enough to challenge, "Easy to get up my skirt?"

He knew that  _she_  knew exactly what he'd meant so he just played along; gestured between them to highlight their arrangement. "Well, I mean..."

 _Fair enough..._ Leaning into him she licked his earlobe then exhaled across it, "Have you ever had sex in a limo, Dov?"

Not even the thought that  _she_  had could counter the heady effects of her body against his and her breath on his skin. He ran his hands down her dress in an attempt to put some more fabric between them or preserve her dignity or  _something_ but his fingers met the tops of her stockings and of their own volition followed the silk around to the backs of her thighs where they found the cool metal of garter clips just begging to be released and  _Good God_... "Gail, you're not playing _fair_..."

The half moan, half plea only served to spur Gail on, especially with him, perhaps involuntarily, kneading her heated flesh. " _Neither are you_ ," she countered thickly as she straightened to run a thumb across his bottom lip, her tongue swiping provocatively across her own. "And seeing as you just can't seem to help yourself I guess  _I'll_  just have to keep that filthy mouth of yours otherwise engaged."

 _Sweet mother_... His resolve broken Dov lunged up, intending to catch  _her_  mouth and move them to the floor in one swift  _suave_ maneuver, but he must have miscalculated or maybe the limo hit a bump because the top of her head smacked into the ceiling with a muted thud, and he belatedly inserted a palm to try to cushion the blow.

Already off-balance from his sudden movement, and surprised if not hurt by the impact, the car coming to an abrupt halt sent Gail toppling backwards and out of his now-loose grasp. She landed on the plush carpet, momentarily stunned.

"Jesus, Gail," he muttered guiltily, holding out a hand to help her up. "Are you okay?"

 _Just a bruised ego and a little bit of rug burn..._ She accepted his hand but instead of getting up she yanked just hard enough to pull him off the bench. Lying on her back where she'd fallen – where he now lay splayed beside her – she pillowed her head on an arm and offered a deadpan, "It's a good thing your words are smooth, Epstein, because your moves? Not so much."

As gracefully as possible Dov rearranged his limbs so that he was on his side propped up on an elbow facing her. "Would you believe I did that on purpose to derail the 'torture Dov' train?"

Playing with the buttons of his shirt Gail pretended to consider it. "Well, I  _could_  but then you'd lose some of your dorky charm."

The tone was playful but that didn't necessarily mean anything with her. "Would that be a good thing or a bad thing?"

Her response was to slowly draw him down to her, holding his eyes all the while, until their lips met and she finally allowed her lids to flutter together.

Bracing himself with an arm on her other side Dov shut off his brain to focus solely on the moment. He was content to let her lead, exploring her mouth when she opened it to him, his tongue caressing hers when she sought it out for a duel, his teeth gently nipping her lip when the opportunity presented itself. Air was fast becoming a concern but he wouldn't break for breath until she did.

Gail didn't know which noises were coming from whom but she  _did_  know that the will to stop would soon be lacking and their first time was sure as hell going to be more leisurely than a quickie in the back of a moving car... She eased him away with a ragged sigh.

When Dov opened his eyes, hers were shining and she was flushed pink and her chest was heaving with unsteady breaths and it was  _the_ most beautiful sight he'd ever seen and he wanted to tell her that. Tell her he loved her and that being with her was all he'd ever needed or wanted even before he'd known there was a 'her' to be with. Tell her that he now believed in luck of the soul and the possibility of anything...

"Dov, stop staring at me. It's creepy."

Dov withdrew from his musings; laughed wryly because of course him pleasuring himself to thoughts of her was fine,  _endearing_  even, but just admiring her was  _creepy._  Which meant that saying any of the things he'd wanted to say was even  _less_  advisable... Searching for something appropriately  _detached_  to talk about he realized he'd yet to congratulate her on her performance. "You did great tonight, by the way."

Gail grimaced at the reminder. "I choked." The glare of the spotlights, the attention of hundreds, her mother observing expectantly from stage right.

Leaning down he pressed a comforting kiss to her bare shoulder. "I promise you, if anyone even noticed they forgot the  _second_  you started moving." She'd been mesmerizing, a glass of champagne raised in her left hand while her right executed increasingly difficult – and violent – tricks with a baton. There was no doubt in his mind that many of the bidders – men and women alike – were doing so in hopes of discovering just what  _other_ talents she had.

"You're biased," she dismissed his assessment, turning to present her mouth so it could receive the same treatment as her shoulder.

Dov gladly obliged the tacit request, then admitted against her lips, "Definitely. But I'm not the one that shelled out a hundred and sixty large for the pleasure of your company." Not that he  _wouldn't_ , if it came to that. And he had it to spare, of course...

Gail had just been relieved for it to be  _over,_  downing the champagne and sardonically tipping the empty flute at the audience before the auctioneer had even finished calling, 'Sold!' "That's Jason, the Chief's brother," she told him once he'd retreated. "He's a lawyer and like family. He and Uncle Richard were just trying to save me."

Remembering her reaction from earlier Dov could hazard a guess as to why: "From the likes of David?" The way she frowned at the name told him he'd hit on something.

"Some guys just refuse to accept that their money can't get them whatever they want." And tried to  _take_  what couldn't be  _bought._  "But I didn't  _need_ saving. I save myself."

Dov didn't know if she was referring to tonight or some other time but he wouldn't push her on it.  _Or_  tell her he was grateful for the Collins brothers' intervention all the same... "Seeing what you can do with that baton I don't doubt it." Still, better she never be in the situation she  _had_ to.

Gail shrugged. "Most girls took piano or dance; I studied Jiu-Jitsu and stick-fighting." Though as her passion for policing had faded so had her commitment to training, and it had taken her the last two weeks of almost constant practice just to be able to finish the ten-minute routine without permanently disfiguring herself. Thankfully the gown she'd chosen hid the bruises that had yet to heal. So long as it wasn't up around her hips, anyway...

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," he joked, fingers running up and down her ribcage, always changing direction just shy of the underside of her breast.

The implication that he hadn't already  _been_  had her eyebrow arching. "If I haven't used them on you by now I think you're safe."  _Especially_  that night in the den.

 _Too true..._ Dov rested his head on his forearm so they were level. "Do you wish you'd had a normal childhood?" Taken piano or dance and been free to decide her own future...

"Do you?" she hedged, hating that question as much as she hated herself for the few times she'd allowed herself to entertain it.

"I did, mostly." Being a child of divorce  _was_ the new normal, wasn't it?

More normal than hers surely, but hardly normal in the traditional sense. That hadn't been what she'd meant, though... "Do you wish  _I_ had." So she would be more 'approachable' and he wouldn't have to work so hard for so little in return...

Dov didn't have to think twice. " _Yes_."

His answer wasn't really a surprise but the vehemence  _was_ , and it stung far more than she cared to admit. "But I wouldn't be the same 'awesome' Gail Peck..." She left the 'you fell in love with' part unspoken for fear her voice would crack.

"We probably wouldn't have met  _at all_ ," he quickly explained, his thumb tracing soothing circles on her arm even as he cursed himself for the note of insecurity that had crept into her tone. "But at least you'd have had a better chance of being happy."

" _Dov_..." That he would give her up if it meant the  _possibility_  of her happiness made Gail's chest tight, but it was the thought of never having known him that had her eyes burning with unshed tears. Shifting onto her side, mirroring his position, she put a hand to his cheek and forced herself not to flinch away from his concerned gaze; muttered a hoarse, "If I did before I don't now." That just wasn't a trade she was willing to make, even with 'happy' the prize... After a beat her lips twitched into a watery smile. "Besides, from what I hear 'normal' is grossly overrated..."


	37. Chapter 37

Dov rested his head on his forearm so they were level. "Do you wish you'd had a normal childhood?" Taken piano or dance and been free to decide her own future...

"Do you?" she hedged, hating that question as much as she hated herself for the few times she'd allowed herself to entertain it.

"I did, mostly." Being a child of divorce  _was_ the new normal, wasn't it?

More normal than hers surely, but hardly normal in the traditional sense. That hadn't been what she'd meant, though... "Do you wish  _I_ had." So she would be more 'approachable' and he wouldn't have to work so hard for so little in return...

Dov didn't have to think twice. " _Yes_."

His answer wasn't really a surprise but the vehemence  _was_ , and it stung far more than she cared to admit. "But I wouldn't be the same 'awesome' Gail Peck..." She left the 'you fell in love with' part unspoken for fear her voice would crack.

"We probably wouldn't have met  _at all_ ," he quickly explained, his thumb tracing soothing circles on her arm even as he cursed himself for the note of insecurity that had crept into her tone. "But at least you'd have had a better chance of being happy."

" _Dov_..." That he would give her up if it meant the  _possibility_  of her happiness made Gail's chest tight, but it was the thought of never having known him that had her eyes burning with unshed tears. Shifting onto her side, mirroring his position, she put a hand to his cheek and forced herself not to flinch away from his concerned gaze; muttered a hoarse, "If I did before I don't now." That just wasn't a trade she was willing to make, even with 'happy' the prize... After a beat her lips twitched into a watery smile. "Besides, from what I hear 'normal' is grossly overrated..."

Dov couldn't speak for the meaning behind her words – reinforced by a variation of her 'regrets are for losers' declaration from the arcade – and in that moment he swore to himself he'd do whatever it took to get her the happiness she deserved.

"Guess I just found another way to keep you from talking," she teased into the awkward silence, pulling his shirt free of his pants so she could massage his abs. "Gotta say I still like my other way better, though." Ironically it was the sexual stuff that  _didn't_  make her feel the need to shower…

In the ensuing calm, his mind wandering as he enjoyed her ministrations, Dov realized they hadn't been moving for a while. "Hey, how long have we been parked?"

Gail had clearly let him distract her into forgetting to distract  _him_ , and she covered for it with a winked, "Not sure. Tony must be letting us finish up." As if on cue there was a knock on the window and she got up to knock back twice for all clear. She gathered her things just as the door opened.

Dov followed her out of the limo to find they were in front of a shady factory in an old run-down industrial area in God knows where. "Uh... did you bring me here to kill me?"

"Yes," she confirmed without hesitation, exchanging a bill for her keys in a handshake with the driver. "And Tony here has been well-compensated to forget seeing you. Haven't you, Tony?"

"Yes, Miss Peck. Sir, good luck." Tipping his hat he disappeared back into the vehicle.

Tony had barely pulled away before Dov's curiosity got the better of him as he looked around. "Okay, seriously..."

Gail held up her [two keys-heavier] chain with a Cheshire grin. "My new place. Signed the papers today."

"It's a little big for just you, isn't it?" And a little  _dilapidated_... She'd rejected all of Andy's castoffs for  _this_?

"Old textile plant." She started up the walkway in her stockinged feet, carrying her shoes. "One of my dad's buddies is a developer, turning these defunct warehouses and factories into high-end condos. The outside may not be much to look at but the apartments are to die for." Especially on the other side of the building.

"And the neighborhood?" To quote Dr. Egon Spengler, it was like a demilitarized zone.

Sensing his lack of enthusiasm she defended her choice as she opened the outer door: "It's up-and-coming. Lots of transplants from Montreal so I'll be able to practice my French."

Dov didn't know which was more surprising: that she spoke French or that she planned on  _speaking_  to her neighbors... At least now he knew why he hadn't understood her conversation with the concierge. "Since when do you speak French?"

"Since most of our vacations were spent in the Mediterranean. I can get by in Italian, too – they're easy enough to pick up if you speak Spanish." Unlike Russian, which she'd attempted to learn after Tomas and had quickly given up on.

If he hadn't been taken aback by the conversation he  _would have been_  by the building's interior that couldn't have been any more different from its exterior, the lobby spacious and gleaming like a hotel beyond the glass.

Unlocking the inner door she led him into the building proper. "Don't tell anyone, though – I like to hear what people say about me when they think I don't understand."

Of course she did... "Are you saying you already spoke Spanish?" He'd heard her say things in different languages before but he'd figured they were just the common expressions most people picked up. Like curses...

"Mom went back to work right away so most of my formative years were spent with Estella. Pretty sure my first words were Spanish." She pointed down a hallway on their right. "Indoor pool, sauna, fitness room."

Okay, he was officially jealous... And speaking of jealous: "Your mom was okay with that?"

Gail shrugged. "Not really but she had her priorities. It wasn't a problem until I made the mistake of asking Estella to career day." Approaching the freight elevator on the opposite wall she told him, "I think it adds character but it's the next thing to get upgraded. Apparently it ruins the  _aesthetic_..."

And the safety rating, and the utilities bill... When she didn't continue her story he prompted, "I'm sure that went over well."

Gail closed the gate and hit the '3' button. "About as well as you'd expect with my mother: she tried to fire her." Even though Gail had sworn she'd only done it because she'd assumed Elaine would be too busy. Gail  _hadn't_  but it hadn't mattered – Elaine  _had been_. In the end no one had gone.

Noticing the button she'd pushed was second to last he lifted a taunting eyebrow. "Princess didn't get the top floor? Couldn't convince daddy to shell out the big bucks for a penthouse?"

"Third floor  _is_  the top floor now," she informed him with a haughty smirk. "They're two-level apartments." She hadn't really needed a penthouse – though she did like their loft layout better than the normal ones on the first two floors – but her dad had insisted on it because the exterior walls were all glass and he didn't trust the one-way film. Apparently it was good enough to use at the station but  _not_  good enough when it came to his baby girl's privacy...

He returned to their conversation as they ascended. "So what happened? You said she 'tried to.'"

God, he was like a dog with a bone… "We'd just learned about Gandhi that week. I decided to stage a little protest of my own." They jerked to an abrupt halt and she opened the gate to start down the hallway.

"Hunger strike?" he 'guessed,' remembering his talk with Bill earlier.

"Something like that." It had gotten Estella her job back but Gail had known to keep her distance after that. "Ready?" She'd unlocked the door and was waiting with her hand on the knob and a grin on her lips.

Dov nodded. Her excitement was contagious, and he was wearing a matching grin as he walked in behind her.

"Storage and half-bath," she waved out on the left, and on the right, "Open kitchen." Her purse and coat were tossed onto the island and her shoes dropped onto the hardwood floor as she passed. She heard his things join hers behind her.

He could tell those were irrelevant to her, and when the wall on the left and the ceiling ended and the room opened up he could understand why: they were in a huge open space with a two-story glass wall separating them from the world outside.

Gail threw out her arms as she did a spin. "Isn't it gorgeous?"

"Breathtaking." It was the closest he'd ever seen to pure ecstasy on her face.

"There's space enough for a living room and a dining room but who the hell even eats at a table anymore?" Before he could answer the rhetorical question she concluded, "So I figure I throw a couple of stools at the island to give an appearance of adulting and put a pool table here instead."

Dov laughed at her palpable enthusiasm, and perhaps lack of foresight. "You know if you do that your place is going to be party central, right?" Especially with the swimming pool and sauna. "You're going to have a hard time staying antisocial."

"I'll charge admission – it'll help with the mortgage." Her father may have donated a sizable down payment but perfection like this didn't come cheap... "But seriously, why do you think I didn't take the doubly awesome corner unit? If I had an extra bedroom people would assume I  _wanted_ houseguests." And she most definitely had not come  _that_ far...

"You'd still have a couch..." Probably  _two_ , given the size of the room, and the same way she didn't require a bed for sex most people didn't require one for  _sleep_.

Gail shrugged. "It's broken."

"The couch is broken?" he repeated, dumbfounded.

 _No_? "Bed bugs? Yeah – bed bugs works better." Unless it was Traci in which case she owed her one, but if it was  _anyone_  else...

He should have known better than to think she wouldn't have an answer, flimsy as it may be, for  _everything_... "Does the 'no houseguests' rule apply to me, too?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Did you want to sleep on my couch?"

"Uh... no." Not that he'd spent an hour watching her sleep (and snore) in his arms before finally drifting off himself that day at his mother's, and in no way was he anxiously awaiting being able to do it again.

"Well, then you're exempt. Except..." Taking him by the tie she drew him close to huskily warn, "My bed comes with an entirely  _different_  set of rules."

The combination of her voice and her nimble fingers slowly working his tie loose had Dov swallowing hard to inquire, "And what would those be?"

Gail slid the fabric from around his neck and lobbed it onto the kitchen island with the rest of their things. "I'm sorry, Officer Epstein, but that information is strictly need-to-know..." Undoing the top four buttons of his shirt she ran her blunt nails down the skin she'd exposed. "And, by your  _own_  choice, you are not need-to-know..."

Dov wasn't aware he'd briefly closed his eyes to the sensations but one second she was there touching him and the next she was at the window.

"Have you seen the view?" Opening the sliding door her hair was picked up in the cool breeze.

Once he'd recovered from her hasty change in direction, both figurative and literal, he went to stand beside her in the open doorway; realized that what he'd felt in the air upon their arrival was in fact moisture from the bay. "Can we go on the balcony?"

Gail hesitated, leaning against the doorframe instead. "I was thinking I'd save it for the summer. You know, for barbecuing and stuff."

Dov's eyebrow lifted of its own accord. "Don't tell me the indomitable Gail Peck is intimidated by heights..."

She wasn't fond of them, no... "I'm more worried that the balconies were added to an almost entirely glass structure years after the fact..."

"I'm sure the contractors knew what they were doing," he reasoned, moving past her onto the gallery that ran the width of the apartment.

Oh, she was sure. Still: "I'm good here."

He did a test jump to prove it wouldn't collapse then held out a hand to her. "Are we going to have to add 'Petrified Peck' to your already impressive collection of nicknames?"

Gail glared at him – not least because it was  _horribly_ unimaginative – but took his hand with a gruff, "If we die..."

"Then I'll die happy." Removing his suit jacket he draped it over her shoulders and stood behind her, arms around her waist to grip the railing.

They watched the lights from the city across the lake join the moon in casting playful reflections on the water.

"It's so peaceful," she murmured after a minute, allowing herself to lean back against him.

Dov pressed a kiss to her temple. "Thank you for sharing it with me." And thank whatever deities had seen fit to give them a chance.

"You're the first one to see it. Other than my dad, obviously." And Tony.

That surprised him. "Not even the girls?"

Gail shook her head. "McNally had already absconded when we found it and it would have been weird to bring Nash to see it without her."

"Aww. Has Andy wormed her way into your clove of garlic?" Seemed that was happening more and more lately...

 _Ugh..._ "No. Just, she was the first one to..." It would sound sentimental whichever way she finished that sentence so she just didn't. And if anyone asked, the  _only_ reason she was going to wait for Andy to get back to have her housewarming was because it gave her two months to paint and furnish the place and make it ready to evoke the  _utmost_  envy _..._  "You know what? Shut up."

Dov chuckled into her hair. "Mmm. If only you knew a way to  _make_ me shut up..."

Turning in his arms Gail raised onto the balls of her feet to lay claim to his mouth, her fingers dancing over his ribs to grip his back through his shirt.

If Dov could freeze one moment in time to keep forever it would have been  _this_  one, kissing in the glow of the moon with her arms around his waist in a position he inherently  _knew_ meant she trusted him enough to not seek control.

Gail broke away to give him a come-hither look. "Speaking of making you shut up," she began in that 'infuriatingly sexy' whisper, "I haven't shown you the best part yet..."

 _Uh-oh..._ Dov knew she was referring to the as-of-yet unseen bedroom. Still, he let her lead him back inside and over to the stairs; let out a shaky breath when she smiled back at him and let his coat drop seductively from her shoulders to pool on the floor. "Is this how girls usually feel? Expected to put out after a date?"

"You're asking the wrong girl." Used to be her  _sole_  intention was to put out and she skipped the date altogether. "First thing I bought this afternoon was an air mattress..."

" _Gail_..." God, she was a test to his willpower. And his self-confidence...

Reaching the top of the stairs she pulled him into the room then stepped aside so he could take it in. "Second thing I bought? A TV and game console."

The TV was already mounted on the wall closest to them and hooked up to the console, and in front of it sat two camping chairs, a cooler nestled between them. The air mattress was made up on the opposite side of the room but out of the way against the wall.

"I thought this would be better than the arcade," she quietly explained, his non-reaction making her question that decision. "I didn't have much time because of the fundraiser so no food or frosty drinks but I had Tony go pick up ice and a case of..."

Dov put a stop to the uncharacteristic babbling with a gentle finger to her lips. "It's perfect." He couldn't have thought of a better end to the night himself, and that she  _had_ thought of it meant more to him than anything.

The look in his eyes made Gail's breath hitch. "You know, I'm going to start wondering about this pathological need you have for me to beat you at video games."

Playing was the most free he ever saw her – the most  _alive_  – and he would lose to her a million times over to keep giving her those little moments of escape... "What do you care as long as you get to keep proving yourself the superior being?"

Gail shrugged as she moved to the cooler. "You'd think that would be enough but after a while it just gets  _sad..._ " Grabbing two bottles she waved one in the air; proclaimed, "Like watching a blind rat repeatedly slam its head into a maze wall trying to get to the cheese behind it."

"That pretty much sums up our entire relationship, doesn't it?" He took the proffered beer and tipped it at her. "Just goes to show, even the blind rat gets his cheese sometimes."

"Did you just call me cheese?" Was that a step up or a step  _down_  from carrot?

Dov smirked at her, exchanging the bottle he'd opened for the unopened one she was still holding. "I did, and I can't help but notice you took issue with  _that_ but not the 'his' part."

Gail took a swig of beer to prevent whatever dismissive comment would've tried to make its way past her lips.

When she said nothing – even  _after_  swallowing – he lifted a suspicious brow. "What? No snark about how I'm hearing what I want to hear?"

She shook her head. "I'm feeling good right now – I'm gonna let you have that one."

He almost choked mid-gulp at the unexpected 'benevolence;' couldn't help but ask, "Because it's innocuous or because it's  _true_?"

Well, it was definitely less commitment than 'soul mate' or getting married... "You can't just take the win, can you?"

"It's probably the only one I'm gonna get tonight," he predicted with a shrug, "I need to get as much mileage out of it as I can." And absent her declaration that it was the former he was going to go ahead and assume it was the latter.

 _Aww…_ She would feel sorry for him, except… "There's one way to guarantee we  _both_  win but you don't want to play  _that_  game..."

Dov sighed. "You know it has nothing to do with 'want,' Gail." He couldn't remember a time he'd known her that he  _hadn't_ wanted her, if only in a hate sex kind of way.

"Then maybe you were too busy dissecting my words to  _notice_ but there was no shortage of guys there tonight I could've gone home with." She dropped into one of the chairs as she dropped her truth: "If all I'd wanted was to get laid I wouldn't have had any trouble..." Or invited him…

Suppressing a flinch he took another drink before tightly acknowledging, "Yeah, I know."

She'd meant it to allay his fear that she only wanted sex – which  _still_  didn't make any sense to her – but his demeanor told her she'd failed and she had no idea why. "Then what's the problem?"

" _That's_ the problem." He regretted it as soon as it left his mouth; ran a frustrated hand through his newly-shorn hair.

Gail's brow furrowed up at him. "Dov, you're gonna have to front me a vowel or two here because I'm nowhere near ready to solve the puzzle." Nor did she have the patience to wheedle it out of him bit by bit.

"You sure you want to know?" The presented out was as much for him as for her – not sure he wanted to risk facing the mockery – and he fully expected her to say no.

"No." That little [defective]-heart-to-[defective]-heart with her mother had met her 'uncomfortable conversations' quota for the next week, if not  _month_... "But it's obviously bothering you and I'd like to get it out of the way now so I can start kicking your ass at DeathDomain."

Her tone conveyed a concern her words didn't, but instead of taking the chair next to her he crossed the room to walk across the mattress, sitting on it with his back against the wall and his legs extended. Taking a deep breath he told her, "You know, you've been with all these guys..." Tonight had been a barrage of little reminders of that...

He'd put the distance between them intentionally so she wouldn't follow (wasn't sure she even  _wanted_ to right now), but she did angle her chair to face him, an eyebrow lifted to heights previously unknown. "Dov, you realize this is like driving cross-country to buy a horse and  _then_ worrying about its pedigree? Since when do you care about my past?"

She sounded more hurt and confused than offended and he rushed to clarify. "I'm not judging you for it, Gail – I'm judging myself  _against_  it."

 _Huh?_  "What are you talking about?"

"You have all this..." He stopped to search for the right word. "... _experience_... that I don't."

She just barely managed not to laugh, part amusement, part relief. " _Seriously_? That's what you're freaking out about?"

He gave her a look that managed to be at once both defensive and critical. "Hey, you're incapacitated by fear of your mother and feelings – at least fear of disappointing someone is  _normal._ "

He wasn't wrong, but hadn't they  _just_  established that normal was overrated? She much preferred to be singular... "Okay, but you were with that stripper, right?" Gail hadn't been with one herself but she figured that alone had to have been worth like ten times the XP.

Dov shrugged. "She was used to dating doped up criminals – it wasn't a very high bar to clear."

"Okay…" Suppressing her ire at the mere  _thought_  of them having sex she offered a derisive, "Well, I'm sure your most incredible Hurt Locker girlfriend's bar was much higher."

Edie was a toss-up but he  _knew_ she remembered Sue's name... " _Was_ the most incredible girl I've ever dated," he gladly amended, then used her earlier rebuke against her: "You can't just take the win, can you?"

Her first instinct was to deny that it was a win (or that they were  _dating_  even) but she ignored it. "The girl forced me to watch stupid dancing shows and tracked me down on the job to talk about feelings. What do you think?"

Dov could guess which of those was the lesser of two evils but he still didn't understand  _why_  it was an evil at all… "Why do you hate dancing shows so much? Seeing people humiliate themselves is, like, the life-blood of your vampire soul."

Gail rolled her eyes, both at his assessment and that he thought she would incriminate herself _._ " _Anyway_ , I never heard her complain."

"Why would you?" he wondered, filing her refusal to answer away for later examination. "You weren't exactly besties."

 _Understatement of the year…_ "No, but she wouldn't have put up with me if the sex were bad. Trust and believe." Not with how hard Gail had tried to passive-aggressively drive her away.

Regardless of whether he did believe her or not... "She's not you, Gail." The concerns he'd shared had been more about baiting  _her_  than actual reservations about being good enough for Sue, and he didn't want to say he hadn't cared about disappointing his girlfriend but he couldn't say he'd really been all that invested in  _not_ , either.

Gail studied him, trying to figure out whether he was saying Sue wasn't as shallow as her (probably a fair evaluation – not many  _were_ ) or that he was just more worried now because the consequences were seemingly greater. Either way she'd failed to reassure him, though, and if she couldn't convince him he was  _wrong_  then she had to convince him that it didn't matter if he was  _right_. Which meant making it about  _her_  instead of him and she wasn't sure she could do that...

The quiet was deafening, her blank stare unnerving. "Look, just forget I said anything, okay? Let's play."

"No.  _Dov_..." She was able to make her way over in the time it took him to awkwardly scoot his way to the edge of the air mattress. Sitting next to him she pulled his hand into her lap to prevent his escape. "Do you know what all my 'experience' has gotten me, Dov? Plenty of bad ones I'd like to be able to forget. And I'm talking  _bad_ bad. Like only one person in the room was important and it wasn't  _me_  bad."

"An unforgivable transgression." Despite the mocking tone he absolutely meant it.

She gave him a muted smile. "Exactly. And I don't need references from the  _previouslies_  to know you're not like that." She couldn't think of one time he'd failed to put her first – not even at the beginning when she'd taken credit for his collars – and she very much doubted that would change now.

Normally Dov tried to discourage her proclivity for belittling her 'enemies' (as amusing as the product of that proclivity might  _be_ ), but he would let this one go because if she was designating them as  _previous_ then it followed that she was conceding her own status as  _current._

Gail took his silence to mean he wasn't yet persuaded but she hesitated to use her other argument, not knowing if it would do more harm than good because it made indirect reference to Chris. Accepting that it was all she had left she held his gaze and bit the bullet. "You know what else it got me? I can appreciate the difference between just sex and, you know..." She made a disgusted face. "... _that other thing_."

"Making love?" he deduced, then immediately chuckled, "You can't even say it, can you?" He could picture her as Jim Carrey in  _Liar, Liar_ , making strangled noises, unable to finish the word.

"Not without puking, no." Her exaggerated revulsion had also had the intended effect of keeping him from looking too hard at what she  _had_  said... "Dov, at the risk of undermining the 'queen bitch' reputation I've spent years building myself, I  _really_  don't care if you're not an Adonis in bed. Actually, it's better you're not because you know how much I love being better than you at everything."

She probably didn't want to know how much damage that reputation had  _already_  taken, at least in their little group… "Are you lying to make me feel better?"

Gail scoffed at the very notion. "I can barely even bring myself to tell the  _truth_ to make anyone feel better – do you really think I'd  _lie_  to do it?" He should know by now she rarely lied, that if she did it was usually to make people feel  _worse,_ and that if she made a point of saying something [of consequence] then it was sincere...

On first glance it seemed ass backwards – that lying would be  _easier_  for her – but Dov knew she meant that if it wasn't important enough for her to make herself say it then she definitely didn't care enough to  _lie_  about it. He assumed there was some complicated formula she used to determine whether or not she  _would_  tell the truth, likely involving how uncomfortable or painful it would be for her, what the expected gain was from it, and the amount doing so would benefit her directly. He also suspected the high level of the first factor (and the conversely low level of the third) was responsible for her inability to just say 'I love you.'

"But just in case you  _still_  don't believe me..." Which he  _didn't_  going by his lack of response... "...I'm taking sex off the table."

"What?" He'd been lost in thought; must have misheard and she'd actually said she wanted sex  _on_ the table.

Of course  _that_ got his attention _..._ "I said no sex. I won't even torture you about it anymore." After a brief pause she revised her promise. "Okay,  _much,_ because it's just too entertaining to give up completely and I'm gonna need something to make up for the no sex thing." Squeezing his hand she gave him a sly smirk. "And when we finally do it it'll be because you begged. You know, just so I know it's not because you feel it's  _expected_..."

Dov's brow furrowed. "Why does this feel like punishment for daring to doubt you?"

Her free hand flew to clutch overdramatically at her chest. "It wounds me deeply that you would even consider me _capable_. I'm just trying to be supportive and sensitive to your feelings…"

"You don't know the meaning of  _any_  of those words," he teased, gently tackling her backwards onto the mattress.

Gail's laughter faded and she shrugged as well as she could in her prone position. "I'm learning." She didn't think she'd done too badly tonight, considering...

Shifting his weight to lay beside her Dov brushed out her hair with his fingers. "It was a joke, Gail. I don't expect some miracle transformation, and if I ever made you think that..."

"You went to Liam," she interrupted, eyes narrowed.

 _Shit..._ His fingers stilled and he gave her his most sheepish look. "I may have panicked a little when you got too 'busy.'"

Taking a calming breath she tersely reminded him, "I  _was_  busy. Working and apartment-hunting and practicing for the fundraiser." And mentally preparing herself for  _him,_  which turns out had been more exhausting than all of the rest combined.

"I know that  _now_."  _Then_ he'd thought she'd had buyer's remorse and was trying to ghost him. "If you'd just told me..."

"Dov, you know I don't like just sharing things; it only makes people feel entitled to ask questions that are none of their business and then either a: I don't answer and I'm a bitch for not wanting to give them information they have no right to or need  _for,_  or b: I  _do_  answer which just leads to more pointless questions." Just look at how an offhand remark that she spoke French had turned into revisiting one of her earliest memories of hating her mother… Still, she would've sucked it up and told him if she'd thought for one second it would have made a  _difference_. "Be honest – would you have believed me?"

He considered it for a minute before having to concede, "No." He was paranoid enough when it came to her that he would've assumed they were convenient excuses.

Gail swallowed hard, the validation bittersweet. "I  _want_  to change, Dov. I don't want you to worry that I'm pulling away, or about disappointing me, or about what'll happen if you disagree with me." Didn't want to make the same mistakes she had with Chris. Didn't want to  _condition_  him to do all those things the way she had Chris. But it was starting to look like it was already too late and that  _scared_  her...

Zero for three so far (unless he got partial credit for worrying his ass off but going against her  _anyway_ ), Dov got her point. "Okay, so that's probably going to take a while. You willing to put in the time?"

"Are you?" she volleyed, head turned away to focus on the city lights twinkling beyond the window.

He leaned in to put his lips to her ear. "Do you really think I'd give up now?"  _Not a snowball's chance in hell._

Right now? No. "What if I  _can't_ change? What if your expensive thoroughbred turns out to be a hobbled mixed breed not worth the cost of its feed?" She was just broken beyond repair?

Backing away he cupped her chin and turned her face to him; swore, "If you want to change that's up to you but  _I_  don't need you to. I fell in love with you just the way you are." He was going into this eyes wide open, no delusions or expectations. "And for the record? I have  _never_  thought of you as anything other than a mustang: majestic..." He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "...And fierce..." To her nose. "...And untamable." To her pouting lips.

Gail grabbed onto his shirt to deepen the kiss, releasing him only when the pain in her chest was due to a need for oxygen rather than overwhelming emotion. "You know what that means, don't you?"

"That I have better taste than self-preservation instinct?" he guessed with a grin.

"Well,  _obviously_ ," she smiled back at him, her thumb running across his bottom lip. "But also that it's gonna be one hell of a wild ride..."

Wasn't a doubt in his mind… "Looking forward to it." Good and bad and everything in between, as long as it was with her.

"Mmm. Then you'd better get to begging..." She knew he wasn't talking about sex, and she hadn't been either (not  _entirely_ , anyway), but she just couldn't seem to help herself…

Suspecting she'd reached (and surpassed) her limit of 'heavy' for the evening, Dov went along with the change in direction. "Just how much begging are we talking about here?"

Gail gave him a wicked grin. "Depends on how convincing you are. Remember, I'm a skeptic by nature."

How could he  _forget_? Nevertheless: "Oh, I think I can be pretty convincing." They were there weren't they?

 _Oh, really?_ " _Without_ resorting to blackmail?" For his sake she hoped so, 'cause there was no way he'd be able to use her mother to his advantage in  _this_  particular situation…

It was cute that she thought he would have to blackmail her  _or_  beg when all he  _had_  to do was smooth-talk her until she threw herself at him just to get him to shut up... He didn't think she'd appreciate being told she was that predictable (in that regard, at least), so instead he pretended to accept defeat with a huffed, "Are we gonna play the game or what?"

"Sure," Gail agreed, laughing at his petulance. "Why not? You'll still be begging, just for mercy instead."

He stood up and held out a hand to help her do the same. "So basically you're happy as long as I'm begging…"

"See, that makes me sound like a bad person." Using the momentum of his tug she 'stumbled' into him, smiling when he pulled her in to steady her as predicted. Their bodies flush, her fingers digging in just at the swell of his ass, she purred up at him, "I prefer to look at it as me being willing to compromise.  _For now…_ "

" _Uh_ …" Dov realized that his plan to smooth-talk her into becoming the aggressor would only work if she didn't manage to seduce him into begging  _first_ , and judging by his body's reaction to her when she wasn't even really  _trying_ his odds suddenly didn't look so great…

 _Boys are so easy…_ Taking pity on him Gail vacated his space and went to set up the game.

He went to join her in front of the illuminated TV, his eyes widening when she unexpectedly took hold of the two sides of her skirt and gave them violent yanks in opposite directions, extending the slit clean up to her hip.

She noticed his expression as she sat in her chair, folding her legs up onto it. "What? I forgot to bring extra clothes and I want to be comfortable." Quirking an eyebrow she suggested, "I could just take the dress off  _entirely_ …"

"Yeah,  _no_." She really didn't need any more of an advantage. "You're good."

"Your loss," she shrugged, handing him the other controller.

Oh, of that he was absolutely certain… Sitting in the other chair he set his controller in his lap and began to roll up his sleeves.

" _Ooh_. Shit getting serious up in herre…" She gave him a cheeky wink before returning her attention to finding and loading the game.

He'd somehow forgotten how obnoxious she could be…. "If you can destroy a five thousand dollar dress to get comfortable, I can roll up my sleeves."

"Except my dress can be fixed and long sleeves aren't the reason you suck," she countered without looking away from her task.

And how much he  _loved_  it… "You know, maybe you should play by yourself for a bit first; wouldn't want you to be able to use the excuse you're out of practice when I  _crush_  you…"

Gail's head swiveled towards him, her mouth agape at being preemptively called out. " _Bastard."_

Dov turned back to the TV with a pleased smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
